Just A Step Ahead
by streamedwords
Summary: Re-formatted and Re-posted. DG and company find out that happily ever after is always just a step ahead. Glitch/Wyatt will be mercilessly slashed. Rating will be M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Brought this over from my Livejournal community. I own nothing -- I am merely a humble fangirl. Let the epic begin in its original format, free of commercial interruptions! -bow-

This began as general, then mutated into Cain/Glitch. Features everyone from Ahamo to Zero. Woo!

Had to re-format this for FF, because I am a tech-tard and didn't do it right the first time.

* * *

"What happens next?" DG's voice filled the chamber, breaking the relieved silence which had settled over all of them, as the twin suns of the O.Z. cast a dazzling glow over the panorama far beyond the tower in which they stood. She glanced questioningly towards the others around her, family and friends alike, for an answer.

"There's still a fight going on downstairs, kiddo." This came from Cain, who immediately pointed out the next step towards their victory. "We need to make sure the witch's people know that she's gone, and that it's time to surrender. I should get down to Jeb and his people."

"I'll help!" Glitch piped up brightly from where he stood near the tin man, nodding decisively as he jerked a thumb back towards the doors. "Let's go beat up some Longcoats, Cain."

The tin man's hand lurched out, catching a grip on a frayed sleeve just in time to yank the lank man to a stop before Glitch could rush out into the chaos down below. "Hold on there, headcase. You'd do better staying up here with these guys. I'll go by myself."

Cain found himself the focus of wide brown eyes, Glitch saddened by the prospect that he'd be left out. "But, Cain.. You're practically hopeless without me!"

"He's right, Glitch." DG agreed, bobbing her head in a sage nod when the absent-minded fellow looked her way. "You should stay up here with us. Cain can take care of himself just fine. Come here." With a small brimming smile, she held her hand out towards Glitch.

As if a switch had been thrown, Glitch's face lit up with a beaming smile, as he ambled over to take hold of DG's outstretched hand. The young woman's eyes shifted briefly to Cain, tipping him a wink to send him off to his task. She noted his look of relief as Glitch was successfully distracted from going into danger, the tin man nodding respectfully to the other members of the royal family before he left the room with a whisper of his duster.

Raw came over to stand nearby, the Viewer casting uncertain glances between the faces familiar to him and the faces which were not. The Queen and Ahamo stood together, arms loosely held around each other. He felt the range of emotions between them, bittersweet but warm. Azkadellia seemed dazed, still absorbing the situation, looking utterly lost standing by herself. Gently, Raw gave a subtle nudge to DG's elbow, nodding in that direction to direct her attention to her sister.

Casting her eyes in that direction, DG reached over her other hand, curling her fingers around Azkadellia's and delivering a comforting squeeze. "It's going to be okay, Az. We just have some adjusting to do. We'll manage it together."

The reassurance earned a smile out of the other woman, as Azkadellia echoed quietly. "Together." Her faint smile wavered tremulously, though it quickly changed as confusion washed over her lovely features, as the former dictator found her other hand being clasped and companionably shaken by the raggedy man standing at DG's side.

"Hi, I'm Glitch."

DG chuckled quietly, watching as Az's confusion softened back into a smile. It was nearly impossible to resist that sunny smile which lingered ever nearby on Glitch's mouth. Azkadellia's mouth opened, prepared to respond to the introduction, when a sudden thunderous sound exploded somewhere beneath them, accompanied by the distant sound of men shouting. As one, the group ran for the balcony outside, moving to look down and see what had developed.

One of the lower levels of the tower was billowing smoke, the sheer force of an explosion having ripped through the thick walls of the structure. Ahamo frowned down at the sight, twisting to look to the others. "What do you suppose caused this to happen?"

"Something just blew up." DG said in disbelief, wide eyes blinking down to where the hole belched out a fresh wave of flame and smoke.

"Was machine." Raw stated simply, his growling timbre tinged with his own slice of surprise. "Witch's machine. Sun machine."

DG blinked, then frowned darkly. Slowly, her and Raw turned their heads to look beside them, staring intently at the amazed headcase peering down at the spectacle below in wonder. The seconds ticked away, before Glitch's brown eyes swung up to blink back at them. "...Yes?"

"Your machine just blew up." DG pointed his attention back down to the smoke.

Glitch's mouth tugged down, forming a confused frown. "Did it? I wondered what all that commotion was. I thought it might have been Cain raising a ruckus."

The Queen caught their attention, her voice soft. DG noticed that her mother's lavender eyes had locked upon Glitch, as if becoming aware of him for the first time. "What machine are you speaking of?"

"The Sun Shiner." Glitch answered automatically, before pausing. "Sun Flower?"

"Sun Seeder." Raw inserted, trying to prompt their absent-minded friend.

Glitch's hand swung up in a snap, pointing at Raw. "That's what it is! Yes, the Sun Seeder. That sounds impress-"

"Ambrose?" The Queen had drifted away from Ahamo's side, placing a hand on the frayed sleeve of the headcase. Her pale eyes were studying him intently. That gaze lifted and settled on the metallic gleam of the zipper on the crown of his head.

Glitch's expression was polite, peering down at the other woman without recognition. Automatically, a brilliant smile stretched itself across his mouth. "Hi. I'm Glitch! On account that my synap-"

"It is you." The Queen murmured, eyes widening in shock. "My old friend... I feared what had happened to you, dear Ambrose. I did not expect... this."

With a darting gaze, Glitch looked quickly away from the Queen, focusing on DG. His smile had vanished completely, replaced instead by a mild desperation. It was clear that he knew that he should have some grasp of the situation, but was lacking that final thread of clarity to tie it all together. DG's gaze was solemn, reaching up a hand to his shoulder. "Glitch, this is my mother. The Queen. You were her advisor once, remember?"

"Oh." Glitch mumbled absently, instinctively accepting this as truth. There was a sudden shift in his eyes, before he focused more sharply, and DG saw the lucid sheen creep into his gaze as Glitch looked back to the Queen. He stared at her thoughtfully, his voice slipping out of him careful and soft. "Oh. Your Majesty... My apologies. It's all a bit foggy."

A sad yet understanding smile graced the Queen's features, as she curled her arm gingerly through his. "We have much to talk about, all of us. But let us see to the progress of our friends fighting below, and leave this place for a better environment." A shudder coursed through the structure around them, as the queen added more promptly, "And before the tower collapses around us, I should hope." Her other hand reached blindly behind her, taken automatically in Ahamo's grasp, who nodded his agreement.

"We have to make a detour first." Glitch reminded them, pulling away from the queen slightly to turn to DG. "We have to get my brain out of here. I don't want to dig me out of rubble later, or anything like that. If I were a genius inventor, I'd have made certain to include a fail-safe in the event of power failure. Backup generator or.. something." His hands waved airily around him.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." DG agreed hurriedly, waving an arm briskly through the air in the direction of the doors. "Let's rescue the grey matter and then hit the road home."

* * *

Communications went out immediately to Central City, ahead of their procession. The progress of their group was slow, considering the sheer number of rebels, royal family members and a brain in a tank that made the trip. By far, the last was the most delicate to transport, considering the frantic reaction of Glitch every time that tank even bubbled. It was nearly impossible to pry the man away from its side, so they allowed him to ride in the large covered cart that held their supplies and that important cargo.

They arrived at the gates late into the next evening, only to discover that the denizens of Central City were waiting for them. It seemed that they had come just in time for a celebration, as their arrival delivered the proof of their victory over the evil sorceress. There was more life to the city than DG could remember previously, and the shadow of the Longcoats were absent, leaving instead a vibrant spirit that was greatly infectious.

The Queen and her family were escorted directly to the capitol of the city, to convene with the officials there who found themselves abruptly freed of the witch's reign. There were politics to iron out, a world to rebuild, and the ashes of victory were still freshly settled over the land. But those caught up in the whirlwind took things as they had before; one foot in front of the other, a step at a time.

Cain took his turn in checking on Glitch, reaching up to pull himself into the back of the wagon. He took a moment to find his bearings, blinking around in the dim interior. His eyes swept around, dismissing the stacks of boxes, until landing on the very headcase that he'd been looking for.

Glitch was settled on the floor of the wagon next to the familiar large tank which housed his brain, having dozed off at some point in time during the trip. His limbs were splayed with an awkward grace, as if they'd come to rest without his control. The headcase was nestled close to the base, propped comfortably there, the metallic gleam of the zipper glinting with the rhythmic pattern of Glitch's slumbering breaths.

Unable to help a small smile, Cain stepped carefully around the obstacles of boxes as he approached the other man. He bent down, reaching a hand to clutch at Glitch's shoulder, shaking him gently awake. "Glitch. Glitch? Time to wake up."

Brown eyes fluttered open. Cain was able to watch the mental processes of Glitch as the man came to awareness. First came that initial flash, a glimmer of lucid light, that minute preview of the brilliant man that Glitch had once been. All too quickly did that shift, as the headcase languidly blinked himself awake, and there was nothing but confusion. Cain felt his face immediately soften, patiently waiting for the other to come around.

"Are we there?" Glitch asked at length, easing himself further upright with a lazy stretch of unfurling limbs. He didn't bother to stifle a yawn, which distorted his words as he continued to speak. "Did we get to the city yet, Cain?"

"Yeah, Glitch. We made it just fine." Cain answered with a nod, before raising his eyes up to the brain drifting in the tank. "Guess we better hurry up and get this secured somewhere."

Shifting his hand, he took a grip on Glitch's upper arm, pulling the man up to his feet just as Glitch turned his head to smile in the direction of the tank. "Yes. The tank's mobile independent generator should still function for at least another day or two, but I'd feel better getting it hooked back up to a stationary power source."

Cain responded with a grunt. "I'll get some of the men together to get it inside. Competent ones. I would hate for it to have traveled all this way only to get broken now."

A hand fluttered up to the tank, Glitch brushing the pads of his long fingers against the glass. He laughed, carefree. "That would make a mess of things. It would scatter my marbles even further!" Glitch laughed once again, as if something about this struck him as terribly funny, and patted the smooth surface of the tank like it would understand his joke.

Cain could have sworn that he saw the brain twitch, just barely. A bit disturbed, Cain pulled the smaller man along, drawing him away from the tank. If he allowed it, they probably would have stayed in there all night while Glitch shared jokes with his brain. "Come on, headcase. We need to go check in with the others. And try not to fall out of the wagon this t-"

The tin man could not even finish delivering the warning before Glitch went tumbling, treacherous feet not having stopped walking even when there was no more surface to walk on. Glitch squawked, arms pinwheeling, and Cain watched as the other spilled out of the wagon's opening to land in a graceless heap on the ground below. The impact made the tin man wince, before he gingerly climbed down to judge the amount of damage the headcase had done to himself this time.

Glitch's head popped up, face set in a frown. The look that he gave to Cain when the tin man pulled him up was mildly accusing, while Cain sheepishly brushed him off. "Gravity, Glitch. Gets ya everytime."

* * *

The celebrations of Central City stretched on for nearly a week, people pouring back in from all over the O.Z. once the news of the witch's downfall had spread across the kingdom. It was a festive time that had not been seen in several long annuals. None would have even dreamed of seeing such a celebratory era again. It ended with a large feast and ball, the unexpected gala thrown together last minute, and leaving its most honored guests scrambling to suit themselves appropriately.

DG made a face in the mirror, reaching down to clasp her hands against the front of her dress, the rich emerald satin falling in graceful waves around her. "Tell me that this dress doesn't show off too much cleavage. It's not like I'm a platter on display here. Couldn't they have gotten me something a little more.. I dunno.. not like this?" The woman turned in a whisper of swirling fabric, annoyed gaze seeking out her companions.

They were victims to formality, waiting idly by while the politicians and restored court members acted out their local traditions, which for some reason meant that each and every individual from the lowest point of government to the highest was announced to the masses gathered outside. Considering their current station as the heroes of the O.Z., they had already been waiting for over an hour now just to hear their names.

Raw shifted, uncomfortable. They'd put some silly laced vest on him, the material pale against the shining surface of his furred attire. Clean for the first time in a long while, the fur looked actually quite lovely in the lights that surrounded them. He murmured quietly, "DG must impress subjects. Many do not believe that you are truly here, and alive. They are excited. They are happy." He shrugged lightly, with a tiny smile, as if dismissing it all with amusement.

"I would think they could get a look at me without getting an eyeful." DG responded, tone of voice dour. She stalked in the direction of the doors, then had to stop as her foot came down on a fold of fabric. With an exasperated sigh, the young woman reached down and hitched the dress up out of her way, before shouldering the door open as far as it would go, considering that there was someone standing outside blocking it. "Psst! Cain! Are they past the town mayors?"

One blue eye twisted back, as Cain looked back to the princess over his shoulder. The tin man had stationed himself outside, keeping the masses of curious onlookers from coming inside to steal glances of the famous princess. Though the court dressers had made a valiant effort, they could not get the stubborn ex-cop into anything more fanciful than his own sturdy slacks and shirt. Cain reached up to his hat, tilting it further down over his eyes as he leaned back towards the door to whisper quietly to DG. "I think they're finally up to governors. Still got time. Those harpies return Glitch yet?"

DG couldn't help a smirk at Cain's title for the royal clothiers. "Not yet. We may need to send out a search party in the next five minutes. Or maybe they just decided to keep him."

Cain's arms slid into a fold, the shadow of his hat concealing some of his scowl in response to her words. He had made his opinion of those clothiers apparent when they had tried to swamp him with lace and velvet, his adamant refusal to let them put him in that "frilly trash" had nearly led to violence between the stoic tin man and the flamboyant dressers. DG's intervention and Glitch's charm had succeeded in preventing the clash of bullets and scissors, before the clothiers turned their attention to the matter of the former advisor. Of course, for whatever reason, their intent focus and handling of Glitch had managed to rile Cain's temper back up, so the operation of getting Glitch into presentable attire had been taken to an adjoining room. Upon hearing that the headcase was still at the mercy of the clothiers, Cain looked ready to abandon his post and go see exactly what was taking so long.

Fortunately, the side door clicked softly open, Glitch's head sticking through the opening to blink in at the others. "Are they ready for us?"

"No, Glitch. Come on in, though." DG beckoned him inside from where she stood at the door, Cain stepping on into the room and shutting them all inside. She ignored his dirty look as she added teasingly. "Cain was worried about you, so you better show him that all your limbs are intact."

"Everything is accounted for, Cain!" Glitch volunteered cheerfully, as he slipped into the room with them. He raised both hands up, lengthy fingers wriggling to show that all of his inventory appeared to be there. It was surprising to see him in something that wasn't frayed or patched. They had fit him in clothes similar to the raggedy old uniform familiar to them, the silver braiding and black fabric looking far too fine for their absent-minded friend. "Though I nearly got my fingers into knots trying to tie these. They helped me get everything put in place, though."

"I'll bet they did." Cain said gruffly, grunting as Glitch pounced onto his left arm with a broad grin. "Wonder how long it'll take for you to get all those fancy buttons and ties all messed up."

Raw chuckled softly from his place nearby, coming to stand with DG. He gently prodded at the intact shoulder of Glitch's jacket, testing the fabric for himself. "Glitch look more like old self. Look like portrait in ice palace."

"You think so?" Glitch asked, releasing his absent hold on Cain in order to stretch both hands up to dance his fingers over the buttons. He became absorbed in staring at their shiny surfaces, transfixed. Then something fired internally, as he blurted abruptly. "I didn't let them cut my hair, Cain."

Cain nodded approvingly. "That's good, Glitch."

The double doors quietly opened, a uniformed attendant stepping tentatively inside, bowing stiffly at the waist before addressing them. "Your highness, excellency and honored guests, we will be needing you shortly for your introductions."

"It's about time." DG drawled, reaching up both hands to adjust the corset of her dress with less than ladylike grace. "Let's get this over with so I can take this thing off. I don't know how the hell Az does it everyday."

"Let's go party!" Glitch bounded ahead of them, getting swept up in his excitement. "I wonder if they'll have dancing? I hope there will be dancing! Do you think we're invited?" The headcase swung the doors open wide, and when he turned back, DG saw that the neat braids of his jacket were already unsettled. She opened her mouth to mention it, yet they found themselves having to hurry to catch up, since the energetic man had already vanished.

* * *

"...and so she says, 'If that's a bullweavel, then I'm a raging kerpellin!'" Glitch finished with a cheerful flourish, laughing merrily at his joke.

DG and Cain exchanged a look between them, before the former murmured pleasantly to the headcase. "Great punchline, Glitch, but.. ah.. how does it start?"

"How does what start?" Glitch asked her curiously, twisting back and forth within the cluster of people who were gathered around them. They were drinking nervously from the delicate crystal glasses in their hands, a few of them clearing their throats.

The response of these strangers to Glitch was mild. It was hard to get used to the disjointed behavior of the headcase, though his charming mannerisms had won a few of them over to him by now. DG dealt diplomatically with the rest, prompting Glitch gently. "The joke you just told. How does it start? You said the punchline, but didn't set up the joke."

Glitch lowered his glass away from his mouth. He'd been intending to drink from it all evening since they'd put it in his grasp, but it seemed that something was always distracting him away. "Did I?" He thought about it, the effort clearly etched over his features. "Hm. I honestly don't remember. But it must have been a good one, if I can recall the punchline!"

DG found her attention pulled away, the Queen beckoning to her out of the corner of her eye. She smiled politely to the crowd, eyes touching last on Glitch and Cain. "Excuse me, if you would. My mom's calling me over. You boys behave yourselves." With a parting wink, the princess swept over towards where the Queen, Ahamo and Azkadellia stood amongst a cluster of courtiers.

With her departure, a few of those gathered around them parted from their company, though the more admiring female courtiers lingered close at hand, one in particular taking interest in chatting up Wyatt Cain. "So is it true that you were a Tin Man, Mister Cain?"

Another girl piped up, excitedly. "Did you ever have to fire a gun?"

Cain took a heavy swig of the contents in his glass, trying to maintain his composure amongst the barrage of questions. "Ah, yeah. Er, yes to both questions."

As he stood there, stiff and uncomfortable, Glitch had already begun to shift his weight against the larger man, easing into a lazy lean against Cain's shoulder. "He shot a mobat once, right out of the air. And I think he wrestled with a frenzied mountain lion during our travels, or maybe I just think that he should have." The headcase smiled to himself, fingers coming up to stroke at his chin as he tried to puzzle out which it was. "He snores like a bear."

"Thanks, Glitch." Cain rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Soft music swelled up to fill the room, an orchestra having indeed been brought in to play. The crowd shifted automatically in response, clearing off the dance floor at the signal of the waltz. Stepping out onto the open space, the Queen and Ahamo moved together, first to grace the floor with their dance. They moved perfectly in time, gazes locked, through the steps of the waltz, while the crowd around them looked on. Up on the dias, DG and Azkadellia stood together, watching their parents dance with warm smiles, the hands of the young women entwined.

As the music continued, more couples began to fill the floor, joining the dancing pair. The dance floor came alive with the bright fabrics of dresses, and the fine attire of their gentlemen partners. Cain had little interest in their dancing, though the sight of the Queen and Ahamo together made something twist inside him. He tried to ignore it, turning his focus instead towards the one beside him, as Glitch began to hum along with the music of the waltz, bumping shoulders with Cain as he swayed in time with the song. "Why don't you ask one of these nice ladies to dance, Glitch?"

The women who lingered nearby exchanged glances, before looking from Cain to Glitch. A pretty redhead thinned her lips, Cain not missing the passing of her eyes up to the telltale zipper. The tin man clapped his friend on the back, as Glitch warmed up to the idea with a sweet smile. "You think, Cain?"

"Of course." The tin man insisted. "Glitch here is a remarkable dancer, ladies. Better try him out before he disappears." Cain gestured the redhead over, as Glitch stuck his hand out to her. "Hi. I'm Glitch."

Smiling tentatively, she put her hand carefully into Glitch's, casting a last look to her friends. "Er, hello. My name is Rose. We're second cousins twice-removed."

"How wonderful!" Glitch declared with a nod, guiding her in the direction of the floor. "We have something in common already."

Cain watched as they moved out to join the dancers. Glitch was radiant with delight, guiding his reluctant partner into the waltz without missing a step. Never having been one to dance, Cain could only guess that he did well, comparing him to the others that moved around the floor. A hand settled on his arm, tearing away his attention from where Glitch was dancing. Cain blinked at the young woman who had touched him, a pale eyebrow lifting quizzically. "Yes?"

"Would you care to dance with me, Mister Cain?" She asked sweetly, the attempt to win him over with a smile quite obvious.

"Sorry, ma'am. I don't dance." Cain said with an apologetic smile. He tipped his hat politely to her, before murmuring. "Excuse me, ladies, if you would."

Then the tin man bid a quick retreat, slipping through the crowd of those not participating in the dancing. He found Raw seated at a table and steered himself in that direction. "Hey, Raw. Not going to dance with the pretty ladies?"

"Raw not dance." The viewer shook his head. "Dance would put Raw too close to others. Might touch too many people. Might see too much at once. Raw eat food instead." He pointed Cain's attention down the table, where several plates sat, piled high with different meats, vegetables and sweets. Raw's smile was indulgent. "Much better than dancing."

"I believe it." Cain nodded. "If anyone comes looking for me, let them know that I stepped out for some fresh air. I'll check back in soon."

Raw stuffed a handful of grapes into his mouth, winking up at the man. "Will tell DG and Glitch after dinner."

With a look of gratitude, Cain's icy gaze moved over the crowd, before the tin man turned and headed in the direction of the doors, and hopefully five minutes without anyone else pestering him to dance.

* * *

Cain was reluctant to return inside, finding the quiet of the outside much more to his liking than the crowded ballroom. So he made slow progress in getting back. Opening the door to step in, the tin man found himself abruptly collided into as the exit unleashed a flash of shining buttons and black fabric. Cain grunted as they impacted, hands rising automatically to catch hold of Glitch as the headcase stumbled backwards, Cain's chest bouncing the lanky man off-balance. "Woah there, Glitch! Easy."

"S-s-sorry. Ss-sorry, Cain." Glitch stammered.

"Lucky you didn't trip over yourself." Cain murmured, ignoring the unnecessary apology. He frowned, blinking. "Glitch? You okay?"

The man nodded his head quickly, then shook it just as violently. Cain's fingers absorbed the sensation of Glitch trembling, and it occurred to the tin man quite abruptly that his friend was crying. Glitch swallowed thickly, his voice struggling to stay light even when choked on tears. "What makes you think that anything's wrong?" He attempted a laugh, but that was also strained by emotion. "Sorry, Cain. I have to go. Have to go. Have to--" He'd managed to work himself into glitching, a sharp shake of his head forcing him to clear. "Sorry."

Cain found his hands abruptly emptied, as Glitch lithely twisted free of his grasp, taking off quickly across the courtyard. Cain blinked after him. What the hell had just happened?

The doors opened again, shortly after Glitch had disappeared, DG rushing out with Raw close behind. Her face was flushed red, knuckles white where she had her dress held in fists. Cain could see that she was furious, eyes burning. He wondered, vaguely, if Glitch had done something horrible. "Where's Glitch?"

"Easy, princess." Cain held his hands up in the air, trying to calm her down. If DG's wrath were directed at the headcase, he couldn't give an answer out of loyalty to the man. "What did Glitch do that got you in such a fit?"

"Not Glitch." Raw said with a shake of his head.

"No," DG agreed, her head shaking roughly in her anger, "not Glitch. Glitch didn't do anything wrong. It was those... those... those people!" She spat out, stamping her foot in frustration. "Some of Ambrose's stuffy old pals. They made poor Glitch feel like a fool, tearing him down like that."

"Ambrose's friends insulted Glitch?" Cain scowled.

"They came over when he joined Raw at his table." DG explained. "Apparently they wanted to catch up on old times. They got all offended when Glitch couldn't remember them. They laughed at him, Cain. Those snotty royal pains in the asses! He got so upset that it made him start to misfire like crazy. By the time I got over there, Glitch was already worked up. He took off before I could stop him. Raw and I figured that he came this way."

"DG yelled very loud at friends of Ambrose." Raw was looking at the girl with awe as he said it. "Raw think that Ambrose friends not come around her again."

"Not if they know what's good for them." DG huffed.

Cain sighed. "DG, you calm down, go back inside, and do your princess duties. The Queen will be looking for you. Raw and I will go find Glitch."

"But--!" DG's protest was cut off with a sweep of his hand, the tin man's face firming up. "Get back in there, kiddo. We'll find him. I promise."

Though it looked like she would have preferred to do anything but go back, DG relented with a resigned sigh. Grumbling under her breath, the young woman spun around and stomped through the opened doors, returning inside. Raw watched her go, then peered up into Cain's face. "DG worried for Glitch. Raw worried for Glitch, too."

Cain was already moving in the direction that Glitch had disappeared, hoping that the headcase hadn't gotten too far ahead of them. If his luck was any good -- and Cain found that his luck was sometimes pretty damn good -- then Glitch had probably already gotten lost, so there wouldn't be much progress made. "Glitch'll be okay. He has been through worse and come out of it just fine."

Raw followed closely behind him, hands winding together absently. "Not sure. Hard to tell with Glitch. Glitch resourceful. Glitch survivor. But Glitch most fragile."

"I've seen Glitch put down Longcoats like they were swamp reeds." Cain argued, eyes searching the area as they crossed the courtyard. "He is the least fragile guy I know, Raw."

"Not physical. Fragile heart." Raw's words came slowly, trying to express himself as clearly as he could in his broken language. "Cain think with brain, like DG and Raw. Brain help keep our hearts safe. We think, more than we feel. Glitch not protected. Glitch cannot think, so Glitch feels. He feels and feels, and does not know to turn off his heart. Glitch feel so much that it sometimes hurts Raw to be near him." The viewer was also searching, and Cain guessed it was probably with senses far sharper than his own. Raw's gift would help him find the headcase if their eyes could not.

Cain reluctantly agreed that there was some truth to Raw's insight. He recalled the few times that he'd insulted Glitch, or barked too sharply, or treated him too gruffly. Cain could clearly picture the headcase's face in his head during those moments, when those big brown eyes would turn deep with sadness, like an abused animal, making Cain always regret whatever he had done to make them look that way. Glitch, who expressed every range of emotion without keeping them in check. Glitch laughing uncontrollably at the play of sunlight on leaves, or flailing dramatically with irritation, or smiling in that way of his which spoke entirely of inner peace, of love for the world around him, with an understanding and appreciation of its beauty that the jaded minds of those with full brains were too poisoned to relish. Lastly, Cain's mind pulled up the image of Glitch, hovering inches above his face, as pale and somber as Cain had ever seen him, those eyes reflecting concern and the ghosted fragments of a sharp intelligence which had saved Cain's life, looking desperate for someone to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

It brought Cain's strides to a stop, as he regarded Raw behind him. "You know, Raw.. You might be right."

Raw's face was solemn but understanding, as he lifted a hand up to Cain's shoulder. His other hand stretched past the tin man, pointing in the direction of the storage house nearby. "Cain will be able to help him. Glitch understand Cain."

"He's in there?" Cain thumbed towards the doors. "Are you coming with me?"

Raw shook his head, hands clasping together in front of his stomach. "Right now, Glitch feeling too much. Raw will be of no help. Will wait here for you."

Cain let out a long breath, reaching for the door. Out of all the people who could walk in there and set Glitch right, they expected him to do it? They were definitely sending the wrong guy for the mission.

* * *

"Glitch?"

Cain's voice echoed back to him in the wide space of the warehouse, as the tin man made his way further inside. He still could not fathom why Raw had decided he was best to handle the headcase's emotional condition. Out of them all, Cain figured he was the least suited to matters of the heart. Or, in Glitch's case, complete momentary emotional breakdown, as it usually went.

He gravitated naturally towards the glowing green light in the room, where the alchemists had attached the tank with Glitch's brain inside the warehouse until there could be some conclusion as to whether it could find a permanent residence back in its rightful brain pan. Cain's instincts guided him to the location of the device, certain that he'd find Glitch there.

Instinct had never failed him before. It didn't now, either.

Cain found Glitch standing in front of the tank, focused upon the contents. Both of Glitch's palms were pressed flat to the glass, and as Cain looked on, that zippered head lowered forward, Glitch pushing his forehead up to the smooth surface, as if willing that brain to return back into his head like magic. Glitch's fingers splayed, before curling loosely into fists. He did not turn back to Cain, but the tin man realized that the other man knew he was there, especially when Glitch's voice floated back to him. "I didn't expect it to become so complicated, you know."

"With getting your brain back?" Cain came to stand nearby, eyes fixed on the headcase. Looking at the brain for too long made him jittery, so he did his best to ignore its presence.

"Yeah." Glitch responded softly, the zipper scraping against the glass as he nodded. "I mean, really. The Queen wants it, and the kingdom needs it, and it's the most logical step towards getting things back to how they used to be before the bad times, but I.." He shook his head, scraping the glass again with the motion. "I didn't expect to ever find it, and most of the time it never occurred to me that I SHOULD try to find it since I was having so much fun at being me, and the rest of the time I just... just..." Dark eyes slid open, Glitch raising his head from the glass to blink over at Cain in surprise. "Cain! Fancy meeting you here!" His eyes locked back ahead of him, as the man realized that he was standing in front of his brain, and Glitch laughed. "Fancy meeting me here, too, I guess. Was I lost again?"

Cain shook his head in answer. "Do you remember Ambrose's friends from the gala?" Cain's fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. Part of him hoped that Glitch at least remembered their faces for later, when they got back to the party.

"Friends...?" Glitch echoed vaguely, before he huffed sharply. "They were no friends of Ambrose. More like rivals. Ambrose didn't have friends -- but he sure did have a lot of enemies. I guess being super smart and highly important put him in a lonely position." He patted the glass reassuringly. "That, and the fact that he was a bit of a snob. Couldn't help it, though, I'm sure. Trained to be like that from birth. Like sharks."

"No doubt." Cain said. Sensing that the other was about to drift away on a tangent, he prompted Glitch back on subject. "Those people who knew Ambrose upset you, then? You came tearing outside like a papay was on your heels. DG and Raw are pretty worried."

Glitch reached a hand up, scratching at the back of his head with a frown. "I didn't mean to worry them. Were you worried, too?" His eyes searched Cain's face.

The question was unexpected. Cain took it with a stammering grace. "Me, what? Oh. Ah, yeah. Yeah, guess I was worried. I worry about you the most. You get into trouble more than you get out of it. Running around the city in a fit probably would have ended up in a major catastrophe."

Cain wondered why his half-comfort, half-insult won such a smile out of the headcase. Glitch's eyes were still red-rimmed, but now they were warm as if sadness had never touched them. The next second, Cain found himself getting jumped at, as Glitch threw deceptively scrawny arms around his neck in a clumsy embrace. "Er.."

"You worry about me most? That makes me so happy, Cain. I like that you worry about me." Glitch gushed, words rushing out hurriedly. "I don't worry for me half as often as I should, you know."

As the hug continued, Cain moved stiffly, trying to figure out what exactly he should do in this position. Sure, it was one thing to get hugs from DG, and another to exchange hugs with Jeb. Yet Cain could not for the life of him recall any time where he had been embraced by a man that wasn't kin. He reached both hands up, awkwardly patting at Glitch's back, while the headcase cooed delightedly.

Finally, Cain decided that it was probably okay for Glitch to hug him. After all, Glitch behaved not too far off from a child at times, so Cain reasoned that being clutched at by Glitch was like how he used to be hugged by Jeb when his son was a little boy. He shifted his hold, bringing Glitch closer to his chest, giving him a more proper embrace, feeling the tensions play through the flighty muscles of the headcase. Glitch clung to him as Jeb had when the boy had been afraid, fingers flexing themselves in the fabric of Cain's shirt, or like Adora had, during those tense days before the Longcoats raided their cabin.

When Glitch started kissing him, that was just like Adora, too. Tentative and sweet, lips softer than the downy feathers of their blank--wait, what? Cain's mind swam back to the present, as he came to realize that he currently had Glitch's mouth locked to his, and the headcase was practically purring. Shifting his grip, Cain quickly took hold of the other man and pushed him back a bit, frowning in confusion and more than a little shock.

Glitch blinked as well, looking just as surprised by it as Cain. The headcase's lips, a little redder than before, worked silently as they tried to shape words, yet nothing came out. A hand reached up to cover Glitch's mouth, as he broke his paralyzed silence, speaking that word that had been skipping out of him all night long. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Cain. I didn't mean to.. Please don't kill me."

"I'm... not going to kill you, Glitch." Cain spoke slowly, the words dragging out of him as his mind tried to twist around what just happened.

The headcase stepped backwards, leaving Cain's hands emptied, as Glitch continued talking, slapping at the tops of his hands as he berated himself. "I won't blame you if you decide to knock my head off. That was rude of me, terribly inappropriate! Sometimes my body gets ahead of my brain and I do silly, silly things."

Cain grew exasperated. "Glitch. I said that I wasn't going to kill you, and I am not going to hurt you. You said that you didn't mean to do it." He cleared his throat, turning away from the tank. "Let's... just get back inside. DG'll be a mess until she sees that you're okay."

Glitch nodded in relief, hurrying to catch up as the ex-cop began to leave him behind, hand clumsily saluting. "Of course, Cain. Whatever you say."

They went outside to find Raw lingering nearby, the viewer greeting them both with a smile. Glitch bounded out ahead of Cain, then allowed them to take the lead as Cain headed their trio in the direction of the celebration. Glitch immediately fell into conversation with Raw, which suited Cain just fine. He was still stuck on minutes before, when he found himself getting kissed by a headcase, and was trying desperately to shake the nagging feeling in his brain which told him that it had felt pretty damn good. Cain needed to do something to ground himself back to reality. When all else failed, there was always violence. "Hey, Glitch? Think you could remember those guys that were harassing you earlier? I think I'd like to talk to them.."

The royal family received the news from Central City's alchemists nearly a week later. They were firmly convinced that they could restore Ambrose's brain to his head with only a minor chance for complications. It was welcomed news to the Queen, considering that the efforts to restore the kingdom were moving at a slow pace without the brilliant, effortless coordination that had been weilded by the kingdom's genius in the past. DG announced the news to Glitch over breakfast when they were all gathered together.

"Wonderful news." Glitch had responded cheerfully as he smeared butter onto his toast. He spoke jovially for the remainder of the meal, regaling Ahamo and the Queen with half-remembered stories of their travels, and sending most of them into fits of laughter before finally excusing himself from the table.

Cain, observant as ever, was the only one to notice that Glitch had not eaten one bite of the food on his plate. The cold slice of toast sat, untouched and thick with butter, where Glitch had abandoned it after DG's announcement.

He considered tailing after the headcase to ask Glitch about it. However, there were duties to perform, a kingdom to rebuild, and despite that itching feeling which told him he should have pried, Cain became too thoroughly swept up in the waves of restoration.


	2. Chapter 2

This was a story that I wrote for the Glitch/Wyatt Community on LJ. Reformatted because I am a tech-tard. Hope you enjoy!

I own nothing -- I am merely a humble fangirl.

* * *

The first few attempts at opening his eyes proved more difficult than he thought it would be. They felt sluggish to him, defiant to his commands, or just heavy with lack of use. So he launched into an internal argument with them. Mind over matter, the brain was in charge! Still, the body was proving itself out of sync with the brain, and it took some time before he was able to reach a compromise between the two.

One eye slit open, light flooding into it so fiercely that it caused him pain, so he shut it just as quickly. There was a distant groan from somewhere nearby, and a pleasant woman's voice reached to him where he felt himself floating in limbo. "He's waking up. Get in here, Pa, quick."

A warm hand settled across his forehead, testing the temperature of his skin, maternal in nature. He felt the ball of its thumb roll soothingly up, the motion providing him more of an anchor to his flesh. There was a dull ache throbbing underneath that comforting touch. The skin felt tender in that spot. For a few seconds, his brain protested, providing instant information, telling him that something about that was wrong, that such a touch shouldn't have been possible, that there was a missing piece to the equation.

"There, there, sweetheart. Easy now."

Beyond her voice, he could hear someone approaching in the background, steps moving quick across carpeted floors. A man's voice joined in, amiable and excited. "Coming around, is he? That's a bit ahead of schedule." The voice drew closer, sounding directly near his ear. "Can you hear me, champ?"

Yes. No. His mind swam with conflict. Why? It seemed only reasonable that he should answer. The brief reluctance puzzled him. "Can... hear you.."

Was that his voice? The words sounded badly slurred, unfamiliar to his ears. There was a surreal quality to hearing himself address them. He nearly sank into panic, railing against this lack of control, before taking an iron hold of the scattering threads. While he could not yet weave them together, he knotted them as tightly as he could. It would do for now.

He could then turn his mind towards gathering information. Could these voices -- people, he told himself -- provide him the answers? It couldn't hurt to try. He formulated his questions according to priority, asking the most important first. "Queen..?"

"Been in negotiations for the last few days with the royals of the outer countries, I hear." The man answered. Relief immediately filled him, making him nearly dizzy with its force. "She'll be glad to hear that you've come to."

That had him wondering. "How long...?"

"..Have you been out?" That female voice finished for him, the hand brushing through his hair. Something there also didn't feel quite right. "It's been almost a month. We've been taking care of you while everybody works on getting the kingdom back together. Oh, they sure wanted to be here to help, but there was just so much to do. Poor dears have been working themselves ragged!"

"Don't go off on that tear again." The man responded with a chuckle. Apparently, these "tears" were common. "Listen, champ. Think you could open your eyes for us?"

Could he? It had been difficult before. But now his mind was working more quickly, rusty gears turning with more and more precision the longer he had awareness. He tried again to command his eyes open.

This time, they listened.

He found himself blinking up into the faces of an aged man and woman, their kind faces peering eagerly down at him. The draperies of a bed hung above them, as he realized that he was in some kind of bedroom. He vaguely recognized the room, so it was quickly dismissed from his attention, but the faces of these two ... no, somehow, he knew them. Didn't he? Their smiles stretched as he looked up at them, the woman's blond hair catching the sunlight coming in from a nearby window. "There you go. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I think. Tired.. My head hurts."

The man nodded, reaching down to pat him on the shoulder. "That should pass, or so the alchemists said. You're awake a bit earlier than they expected you to be. Now I'm supposed to ask you this question, just to check: Do you know who you are?"

What a silly question! Of course he knew who he was. What kind of idiot did they take him for? "I'm.. ..." Okay, perhaps he wasn't so certain. The answer was there, beyond a wall that his struggling mind could not breach, making him grunt in frustration.

"They said that it might be hard at first." The woman said encouragingly. "Don't get too frustrated, cupcake."

"No." He wouldn't accept it. No block was going to keep him away from the answer. He reached deeper, slamming his mental hand down on the skittering information, pinning it in place. The wall shattered. "I'm Ambrose Oswin Andersen, head of the Central City Board of Inventors, four time recipient of the Outer Zone's prestigious Golden Cap awards, graduate of the Honored University of Gillael, and Royal Advisor to her most Gracious Highness, the Revered Queen Elizabel Ozma the Fifth." As an afterthought, he tacked on, "And I feel compelled to add 'Glitch' in there, for some unknown reason."

"Very good! You remembered all that without any help, too!" The man said, pride in his voice. He gestured between himself and the woman. "We're your care units. We had been DG's nurture units since she was a little girl, and she was the one who suggested that me might do well at seeing to your care until you got yourself all put back together. Came all the way here from Milltown."

He remembered Milltown. It had been one of his favorite places to visit. Aside from the rustic charm of the little town, he recalled many lengthy, informative conversations from the cybernetic residents there. Slowly, Ambrose nodded, surprised to find that it was getting easier to make his body respond to him now. He decided to test the waters. Cautiously, he tried to get himself upright, though the muscles in his arms tingled strangely on the peripheral of his senses. Both of them moved to assist him, guiding him to sit upright, the woman warning him, "Best to take it slow. You haven't been moving around for a month now. There's bound to be some coordination loss, as well as muscle failure."

"I'll be fine." Ambrose informed them. He would be. He had to be. If the Queen had been in negotiations, if the other members of the kingdom were struggling to recover, then he had to be there. No other option was acceptable. "Help me up to my feet."

The two robots glanced at each other, their doubt clear. The man then shrugged. They'd had to contend with the stubborn nature of DG for fifteen annuals. By this time, they were conditioned enough to know that arguing would get them nowhere. Reaching down, the man took hold of his shoulders, guiding him carefully. "If you're certain, then I'm not gonna stop you. But if DG decides to storm at us for this, then you're the one who is going to be taken the brunt of it, champ. Let's see if we can't get you on the move."

* * *

"Tell me that this shell of a body of mine didn't decide to grow my hair this long." Ambrose said darkly, half to the mirror and mostly to the man hovering nearby to assist him when he faltered.

It had been slow going, moving from bed to bath, to the act of dressing which in itself had brought Ambrose feeling low. What sort of use would he be if he couldn't even button a shirt? The nurture units were patient with him, knowing when to back off when Ambrose tried to succeed in his own dressing, for which the man was grateful. His dignity could only suffer so much.

"Nah. That's due to the alchemists." The male cyborg, who insisted being called 'Popsicle', informed him. "They had to shave your head completely bare for the surgery. Figured you might not take kindly to the look when you woke up, so they gave you a booster for hair-growth to make sure it was all back in place in time. They.. ah.. might have overdone it a little."

"You think?" Reaching up, Ambrose fingered a lock of brown hair, the chestnut strands falling clear to his shoulder. "It looks positively ridiculous. But there's nothing for it just now. I'll simply tie it back until I can schedule a proper visit to a barber." Very soon, he added internally, hands moving to gather it all back out of his face. His fingers had grown more nimble the longer he forced himself to use them, so it was not such a complicated process. Ambrose surveyed himself in the mirror.

The image looking back was paler than he remembered, and far thinner. The clothes that he'd found would need to be tailored to fit him more appropriately. Black brocade lined the jacket of charcoal grey, the colors somber but surely suitable for royal negotiations. At one time, he might have sent for word from the Queen's attendant, dressing himself to match, which always made a good impression on visiting nobles.

He was going to have to wing it today. Though it pained him to settle for less than perfection, Ambrose knew that his options were limited with so little time. If the other royals were here, then that meant that the Queen was having to put on the best appearances. Ambrose remembered the games of politics; even if the kingdom were in ruins, there was no option to show weakness, or else those other royals might pounce upon it. He would have felt lower than dirt if he failed the Queen now!

Ambrose nodded at his reflection. "Very well. You'll do."

* * *

DG had already made up her mind that she hated politics. Especially royal politics.

It had not been so bad in the beginning. As the members of the royal families on the outskirts of the O.Z. began arriving, DG accepted the formalities like a good princess, greeting and bowing when she was supposed to. Mostly following Azkadellia's lead, since her sister was more current on how all this worked. DG tried to remember as many names as she could, despite the fact that many of them twisted her tongue up, and improvised her way through conversations with those who she could not remember.

Too quickly did she come to understand that once the pleasant introductions had been settled, the manuevering began. She felt like a flounder in a sea of sharks. Her mother seemed to handle herself just fine, especially with Ahamo and Azkadellia at her side. The woman was adept at sidestepping questions that DG suspected held malicious intent under their pleasant deliveries.

Was the kingdom progressing along under her rule? Were the subjects accepting that Azkadellia no longer posed a threat to the lands? How did she intend to defend her kingdom without an organized military? What was the status of her council?

Cain had made the mistake at that point of speaking up, drawing their attention to him. "Her majesty recently placed me in charge of getting the military affairs in order. Between the members of the rebellion, and the disbanded ranks of tin men who have since been reinstated to their positions, we have more than enough to keep ourselves safe from anyone who might be fostering ideas of trying to take over."

"Is the royal council suggesting that we would stoop so low as to try to take political control while the kingdom is in such a condition?" The monarch of Hamendon asked archily, the flank of attendants around him tittering to each other in whispers.

"Well, no." Cain blinked sharply, looking to the Queen and back. "I simply meant to say that--"

"It would be bold of the royal council to presume that we could not conquer this kingdom as it currently stands." The wrinkled queen of Bodwingale murmured from her place at the table, earning a smirk out of the young man seated beside her, which DG remembered had been introduced as Prince.. Something? "To make such a statement seems that the council believes that our militaries would be too weak to undertake such an act.. if the act were to be taken." She added hastily.

Cain opened his mouth to respond, but the Queen beat him to it. Her voice carried strongly over the table, polite but firm, like silk over steel. "The military of Bodwingale has always been a strong asset, and has proven itself a capable force in assisting this kingdom in the past." She smiled faintly, before remarking in a casual tone. "I suppose we were much surprised when the kingdom came under attack from the witch's forces, and our appeals to Bodwingale for assistance went unanswered. Though, at the time, I am sure that you were quite busy handling your own affairs."

DG had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from grinning. That was sure a point for their side, considering how uncomfortably the queen from Bodwingale squirmed in her seat, a few dry coughs sounding around the table. "Yes, well... Yes. We were quite absorbed at the time, or else we naturally would have offered our services to aid you."

"I don't confess to know much about the military, or how all of it works," Ahamo said with a pleasant shrug, smiling around the table with his humble charm, "but I think it pretty impressive that the people of this kingdom were able to recover and overthrow the evil all by themselves, without an ounce of help from anyone else. Otherwise, the witch's shadow would still be cast over this kingdom, and all the others, wouldn't it?"

As he turned back towards her, DG saw her father wink in her direction. The woman felt a surge of pride for her parents. They were a formidable duo. Though their hands were only clasped together where they sat in their highbacked chairs, DG could imagine them weilding sword and shield against these backwoods yokels without breaking a sweat.

She glanced over to where Raw was seated silently nearby, the Viewer watching everything unfold with a peaceful expression. The Queen had specifically asked for him to be present for the meeting. If any of these royals had any sort of hostility towards the kingdom, or any hidden agendas, then the empathic Viewer was sure to know. Raw's eyes caught hold of hers, as he smiled faintly. They then flickered towards the Bodwingale queen and prince, drawing DG to look in that direction, the silent warning transmitting to her loud and clear.

_Beware of these two._

So far, DG figured that they were doing a fine job of keeping the upperhand. She smiled privately, satisfied with how things were going. Then DG noticed that the prince across the table was looking at her, and by the subtle smirk on his face, the woman realized that he must have misinterpreted her smiling. She rolled her eyes away.

The prince then spoke up for the first time, and the timbre of his voice made DG's nerves shudder with immediate irritation. "What about the rumors of your advisor, Queen Ozma? Reports came to us that he had been de-brained by the witch. How do you expect to fare without the support of your famous genius advisor?"

This gave the Queen pause. The silence stretched on a bit too long, DG guessed, since the prince's smirk only grew. "The reports are true, then? Ambrose Andersen was a pillar to the structure of this kingdom. How will you survive without such a trusted crutch to lean on?"

That kind of talk, especially on the subject of their dear friend Glitch, was enough to make DG's temper flare. She noted that Cain and Raw reacted too, their sudden anger almost palpable. DG's mouth got ahead of her brain, which was ironically very 'Glitch'-like, as she prepared to give that royal brat an unkind word.

A new voice interrupted, tone firm and swollen with confidence. "This kingdom has never needed a 'crutch' to lean against. It's foundations have been and always will be strong, despite whatever players may be currently in their parts."

All heads turned to the newcomer, the dark-eyed man's face weary but composed. As they watched, some with far more amazement than others, he crossed the room in a few graceful strides, one hand reaching up to grip one of the banisters that topped the Queen's chair as he settled to her right side, opposite the seated Ahamo. He locked into that position effortlessly, as if it were second nature to him, as if he had never left. "Your Majesty. Forgive me for being late, but I had matters to attend to outside of the city concerning the security of our esteemed guests."

The Queen could barely conceal the shocked expression on her face, though her mouth did not hang open like DG's was. Finding her composure quickly enough, the Queen nodded up to him before turning back to the table. "I am sure that you all will not hold Ambrose accountable for his lateness. Out of all my subjects, he has been working the hardest to make this day possible. Knowing that Ambrose will see to your safety while you are here, I am sure puts all of your minds at ease."

Cain made no effort to hide the fact that he was staring at Ambrose. The others thankfully did not notice. He watched as the other man met the gaze of those royals boldly, with a confidence that Cain himself sorely lacked in this mess of intrigue, and heard Ambrose parrying those verbal jabs without fail. This was nothing at all like Glitch. Was there any trace of the headcase in there at all, or had surgery and a month of recovery erased all evidence of the man?

Suddenly, brown eyes shifted, and Ambrose met his gaze across the table. For a few seconds, the advisor's mouth flitted up into that tiny, familiar, goofy little grin. Then that teasing look vanished as Ambrose's attention locked back on the table, leaving Cain to wonder if he hadn't just imagined it, before he decided that they would probably find out more once the royals decided on a victor to their verbal chess match.

* * *

"This is a shock." DG said for the hundredth time. "You sure do know how to make an entrance."

The four of them lingered in the meeting chamber after the royals had excused themselves for the evening. As soon as they were alone, Ambrose had promptly sank into Ahamo's empty chair, clutching at his head in both hands. DG brought her glass of water to rest against his forehead, a grateful sigh coming out of the advisor. "It was horribly dramatic, don't you think? Did you find that it was 'cool'?"

DG chuckled at his use of the term, nodding. "Very cool, Glitch. Super cool. But what are you doing up and out of bed? We were told that you weren't going to be awake for at least another few weeks. Something about 'stages of brain recovery' and things like that."

"I'm sure they were just making projections to be on the safe side." He assured her, shutting his eyes as that glass was rolled back and forth, the cold of it doing wonders for the ache in his head. "Though I think I might have overdone it a bit. My head is killing me. I can't decide whether I want to be sick, or if I want to pass out, or if I am starving. My stomach tells me the latter, yet it's too early to know which might win the battle."

Raw moved over to stand nearby, DG stepping aside to give him some room. He positioned his hand on Ambrose's left temple, closing his eyes in concentration as he murmured. "Still some pain. Should be expected. Takes time to heal."

Ambrose was not entirely certain what the creature was doing to him, but the sudden release from the pain in his head from the man's touch made him sigh heavily with relief. "Oh Gods. That's ten times better than before. Thank you."

With the throbbing having subsided to a dim pulse in the back of his consciousness, Ambrose drew himself up to study them more frankly. "I feel obligated to inform the three of you now that my behavior will probably be altered from what you remember of me. But hopefully the change will not distort your opinions of me too much. I am still .. ah .. Glitch." He paused, before smiling shyly. "Though my synapses seem to be firing correctly."

"We expected that there would be a change." DG said with a laugh at his joke. "Though we're all more glad to see that you are full of brains again, and healthy. Aren't we, guys?"

She found Raw grinning toothily as he nodded his agreement, before looking in Cain's direction. The tin man had been silent through the entire exchange. Now that they had drawn him into the conversation, he grunted quietly. Both DG and Ambrose blinked at him as the man pushed himself up to stand. "Just make sure you get the screws locked in tight this time, advisor. We'd hate to have you go bananas on us at this stage of the game."

Ambrose pouted immediately in response, his tone hurt as he glared fiercely up at the tin man. "You're such a hardcase, Cain. A mean, nasty, pugnacious..." He stopped, mouthing that word to himself as if to check that it suited the moment, though Ambrose quickly decided that it did. "...jerk!"

Cain gave him a blank stare, before it dissolved into a low chuckle. "Yeah, not much of a change, headcase. I've got some time before I need to get back down to the barracks. Why don't we see if we can't get something for that stomach of yours?"

"Hm. I would have to advise you, Mister Cain, that that sounds like a marvelous idea." Ambrose stated as he stood up, toying with a grin as he slung an arm around Raw and DG at either side of him, hugging them lightly. "Judging by the thin condition of my figure, let's see if I remember how to eat a proper meal."

* * *

The kitchen staff had exhausted themselves for the evening preparing food to accommodate the influx of guests, but they still managed to scrounge up a small feast for themselves, piecing together bits and pieces of meals. Between the sliced meats, strange cheeses, fluffy desserts and bottle of red wine that Ambrose had managed to charm out of one of the serving girls, they managed to pull together their own small celebration dinner. They staked a claim of one of the broad wooden servant's tables that adjoined to the kitchen and settled in, intent on simply enjoying themselves for the first time in forever, their core four without the influence of outsiders, reunited once more.

"So what did you think of my, er, parents?" DG asked around a mouthful of food, already following up another forkful. Considering the bird pecks that she'd been forced to eat with around the other royals, the princess was enjoying her meal with gusto.

"The nurture units?" Ambrose took a long drink out of his glass, the wine having already put spots of color into his cheeks. "They were nice. Excellent programming. I suspect that they might even have some empathic abilities in their neural bio-structure. Or else they were just really good at anticipating my moods."

He glared over at Cain as the man drawled. "Is such a thing even possible? You're an emotional tornado."

"Dear DG, sweet princess," Ambrose muttered with a long-suffering sigh, "would you kindly use your abilities to summon an appropriate sense of humor for our friend, Mister Cain? I've met machines with more personality."

"But not with half of my charming good looks." Cain retorted, straight-faced. The twinkle in his eye betrayed him, as he stuffed another chunk of bread into his mouth, looking satisfied when Ambrose sputtered wine into his glass.

The comment had Raw howling with laughter, slapping a hand down on the table, while DG giggled uncontrollably over her plate. Ambrose looked at them both as if they were traitors.

Once he had recovered, Raw said teasingly, "Battle wits. Even ground now. Very funny."

"Nothing even about it." Ambrose pouted against the rim of his glass, before the man leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Cain as his voice took on a challenging tone. "Just you wait, Wyatt Cain. Your primitive efforts to volley wits with me will only result in your inevitable humilation."

He unfurled a finger, jabbing it against Cain's chest. The effect might have been better, had he not winced and proceeded to comfort that same finger, muttering under his breath about the hard surfaces of tin men. Cain merely smirked at the flustered advisor, a pale eyebrow raised. "We'll see, headcase. We'll see."

An attendant stepped into sight in the hallway beyond, urgently searching the area. Upon locating them, the young man approached their table directly, bowing stiffly at the waist. "Princess, Excellency, good sirs. I was asked to deliver a message to his excellency, Sir Ambrose, on behalf of the Queen."

"Hear that? Excellency." Ambrose said smugly, lifting a hand to take the note being offered to him. He pointedly met Cain's eyes, then repeated the word more slowly. "Excellency."

Cain shook his head, nodding gratefully to the messenger. "We'll make sure that he reads it."

The messenger bowed again, heels clicking together, before he left their group. He was barely out of the room before Ambrose was opening up the letter. "I'm reading it, Cain. My eyes have always worked just fine, they..." He found himself holding the letter up closer and closer to his face, squinting to make out the words. Then, he sighed. "Appointment with the barber and appointment with the eye medic, I suppose. Who would have thought that fifteen annuals later, I'd finally remember that my vision was poor?"

"Give it to me." Cain took the letter from Ambrose before the other could protest, folding it open. He cleared his throat, reading the contents in a quiet voice for the table while DG and Raw continued to eat.

"'Dear Ambrose. It seems that we have found ourselves in a new tense situation. The queen and prince of Bodwingale apparently have been spreading word that they may seek to try and take the realm. The prince, however, has proposed that we might be able to come to some compromise if--'"

Cain abruptly stopped reading, scowling at the letter. DG was glaring as well, while Ambrose looked incredibly shocked. The advisor's lips pursed together, sensing that the rest of the letter would not lead anywhere good. He refilled his glass with wine, emptied the contents in a few hearty swallows, then filled it again, as he breathed out, "Finish the letter, Cain."

"--if we agree to combine the strength of our kingdoms through marriage."

That had DG immediately worked up, slamming a hand down on the tabletop hard enough to make their silverware clatter. "Azkadellia's going to have to marry that trollop of a man? That seems cruel to do to her, after she's been through so much! I won't stand for it!"

Lifting his eyes up to the woman, Cain slowly shook his head. "No. Not Azkadellia." He handed the letter over to her, adding mildly. "The prince apparently wants to marry you."

DG blinked. "...What?"


	3. Chapter 3

The intentions of the kingdom of Bodwingale were stated more overtly when squadrons of their military were positioned just outside the border of the O.Z. It became clear that there had been plans in the making before the monarchs had even arrived in Central City for their meeting with the royal family. This put the citizens of the kingdom back on alert, bringing a halt to the recovery efforts that they had made such strides in. It was a frustrating situation, not just for the Queen, nor for her subjects, but especially for the young princess who found herself at the root of the situation.

DG had paced a full circle around Ambrose's laboratory. Having realized that the inventor's work area went undisturbed by everyone in the kingdom except for a select few, the princess decided that it was the perfect place to hide out in, avoiding the denizens of the O.Z. at large. It did not help that Cain was too occupied as of late dealing with patching the military up in the event that Bodwingale attacked, nor did it help that Raw had taken Kalm and traveled back towards their home village far to the north. It certainly did not help that Ambrose himself seemed more absorbed in his current project on the broad expanse of his table, than in listening to her rant.

"Glitch, are you even listening to me?" She asked at length, throwing her arms into the air in exasperation. "Glitch?"

When the man failed to respond the second time, DG snapped warningly, "Ambrose.."

"Hm? What?" The man's head lifted, as he stopped in the process of some sketch he was making, glancing up at the princess from the other side of the room. Judging by the look on her face, Ambrose decided that he should come up with the correct response, and quick. "It's a terrible situation, DG, I agree with you completely. But..."

"But what?"

"But it isn't so uncommon." Ambrose said with a shrug. "Royal marriages for treaties are really a standard tactic. It's an age old tradition in some parts of this realm. I would think that Tutor would have worked on your history a bit better, so that you'd know that much."

DG came over to the table, leaning her hip against it. She shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense, though. The guy gives me the creeps. I'm barely nice to him. How could they try to put me in a marriage that I obviously don't want?"

Ambrose had resumed his sketchings, and the artist in DG could not resist casting a surveying eye over the plans. It boggled her mind, frankly. She could not even begin to unravel what he was creating in that complex mesh of designs, scribbled codes, and clips of language that went far over her head. It distracted her from the subject at hand, as she asked curiously, "What is this that you're working on? It looks pretty .. um.. massive."

"Actually, it's a combination of several things." Ambrose answered brightly, his face becoming more animated than usual, clearly eager to discuss his plans with someone else. "I'm working on a flying machine, for one, that would allow people to travel across the kingdoms, and it would run entirely on used corn cobs."

"Wow." DG pointed to another drawing, impressed. "And that one?"

"A self-automated brick laying machine." One of his long fingers flew across the paper, lingering here and there as he explained it to her. "This here would mix the bricks according to pre-programmed dimensions, and this part would be the mechanism that would stack them, and this will provide the seal to connect one brick to the next. I thought that might help the rebuilding process greatly, since it would free up manpower to be used on other projects besides repairing things."

DG smiled brightly, reaching a hand up to grasp his shoulder. "That's perfect. I'm so proud that you're able to do this stuff again. It seems like it makes you really happy, Glitch. You always did seem to gush a bit more when talking about science matters."

Ambrose blushed, dropping his eyes to the sketches. "It just comes easy to me. Before the.." he gestured towards his head, "..before everything, I used to identify with machines more than I did with people. The Queen was one of the few people who I actually opened up to."

"Lucky that you remember not to be such a stiff." DG drawled, then nodded to another part of the sketch. "And what's that right there?"

"Um.." The man hesitated, looking off to the side. "It's... well. I mean, I couldn't very well let the idea go to waste. The concept of it is too perfect, and despite it being twisted in its development to become something very terrible, it..."

"It's the Sun Seeder?"

"Yes. Well, Sun Seeder Version 2.4. Now that I know that it could work, I feel like I should... redeem it."

DG tried to decide how she felt about that idea, considering that the device had nearly caused the end of the kingdom. Then the woman shrugged. "Do you think that you can make it work like you wanted it to?"

Ambrose smiled faintly. "One hundred percent certain."

The girl studied his face, her blue eyes giving him a frank consideration. Then, DG nodded. "Okay. Then I think you had better get started, if you're going to get all this done before my hair is as gray as Tutor's."

"Thanks, DG."

"Sure, Glitch. Just promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"If you think you're going to blow anything up, then please launch the thing in the direction of Bodwingale."

Ambrose grinned broadly. "Whatever you wish, princess."

* * *

The day had been full of sunshine, making the courtyard where the militia were going through their drills almost unbearably hot. Despite that, the troops labored without complaint. These men -- and women, thanks to DG's campaign for "equality in the military" -- had been seasoned by long years in the resistance against the witch and her minions. They had been tested by harder ordeals than this, which is why Cain knew that they had a dependable force on their side.

Cain walked along the ranks, pulling off his hat to swipe an arm across his brow, removing some of the sweat. He squinted against the sun, trying to judge the time to guess how long they'd been at it. Figuring that they were due for a break, he raised his hand up, signalling to Jeb across the way. His son caught the signal, returning it before his voice boomed out over the ranks. "All right, troops! Take a rest, get something to drink, shake your bones loose before we start again."

Jeb crossed over to where his father stood, while the ranks broke as people began to scatter, taking some time to cool themselves down in the spill of the afternoon sunlight. The younger Cain looked out over the troops, his approval quite clear, as he came to stand beside his father. "They're getting better every day. While the Resistance doesn't have the experience of fighting in such open combat, they're adapting to the changes just as easily as I expected they would."

Replacing his hat, Cain nodded his agreement. "I always believed it. These people are survivors. They know how to adapt. They had to." Turning, he walked towards the shaded doors, Jeb following close behind him.

"They'll fight for this kingdom." Jeb said firmly. "They'll fight anything that threatens this kingdom. Those royals will regret it if they force the queen's hand, one way or the other."

By now, Cain was used to his son speaking so passionately about his fighters. He reached for one of the glasses of water that had been put out for the troops, drinking thirstily.

"We won't let them force Princess DG to marry." Jeb added, as he took up his own glass, shadowing Cain's movements.

Cain paused, thickly swallowing another gulp of water. A blue eye shifted in the direction of his son, considering him. "No, I guess we won't."

Jeb shook his head firmly, finishing off his glass of water without wasting any time. "No. A spoiled royal like that isn't good enough for someone like DG."

Placing his glass down, Cain tried to figure out what to say next. He turned towards his son, arms folding across his chest. "Jeb. You.. have something that you'd like to tell me?"

"What?" Jeb looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Anything about... DG.. that you'd like to tell me?" Cain prompted him.

As soon as a wash of color filled Jeb's face, the tin man knew. Jeb dropped his eyes, shuffling his feet awkwardly on the ground. Cain reached up to adjust his hat. It bought him time. Gods...

"Look, son.." He said slowly, wanting to be sure that he could piece his words together without embarassing himself or his son, not sure if he was going to be successful. "I know that by our standards, she's a real pretty girl, and that fiesty spirit of hers can be kind of endearing at times, but DG.. Well, Jeb, DG.."

"What about me?"

DG popped into sight nearby them, hands in the back pockets of her jeans. She'd shed her royal attire for the time being, it seemed, outside as she was on a nice day. The woman's eyes turned between the two Cains, curious. "Should my ears be burning, boys?"

Jeb cleared his throat, tipping a crisp salute to his father. "I should be getting the troops back to their drills, Sir. Excuse me, highness." Jeb moved away from them at an impressively fast pace.

Cain watched him go, before murmuring belatedly to the girl at his side. "Nothing, DG. What are you doing out here, anyway? I figured you'd still be hiding out in the headcase's lab."

"Nah." DG chuckled. "Once he started mixing compounds together that created smoke, I decided it would be safer if I left him to his own risky devices. Glitch managed not to kill himself over fifteen annuals without a brain, so I think he'll manage with it all back together. I hope."

That wasn't very comforting to Cain to hear. He wondered how hard it would be to think up an excuse to leave the drills in order to go check on the advisor. Placing his hands on his hips, Cain frowned thoughtfully to himself.

"Actually, I came out here to find you, too." DG added, before the girl looked conspiratorially around, then beckoned him closer. Once Cain had leaned in, she murmured. "I'm going to need your help on something, Cain. Out of all the people who could do it, you're the best suited to the task that I can think of."

"Anything you need, princess." Cain wondered what she needed that had her suddenly so serious. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well.." DG said, taking in a long breath to steady her nerves, before letting it out with a decisive nod. "I'm going to run away from this joint, and you're going to go with me."

Cain gaped at her. "...What?"

The girl nodded, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "The way I figure it, you owe me for being such a hard ass. Now make sure you've got some stuff packed, because we're leaving in a few days. If you aren't going, then I will go by myself. Let me know what you decide. I'll come find you tomorrow." DG gave his shoulder a firm pat, before walking away, leaving the tin man standing in the courtyard in a stunned silence.

* * *

"Hey Glitch?"

"Yeah, Cain?" The tin man drew the attention of the other man, peering at him from behind the lenses of a pair of spectacles. Ambrose had found the time to get his hair cut and visit an eye medic, so he looked more like the man of older days, though wisened even further from fifteen annuals of hard experience.

"What do you think about this whole situation with DG?" Cain asked, closing the book that was in his hands. Some volume on tactical manuevers which Ambrose had loaned him earlier in the day. He shifted in his chair, seated across from the other man, trying not to get in the way of where the advisor and inventor was sketching furiously away on the table.

Ambrose shrugged. "It's just as I've told her. This kind of thing isn't uncommon. It's not as if the queen has much of a choice in the matter. Her Highness would not use DG in this manner if it could be avoided, but our potential enemies have left us with no other option."

Placing the book down on his side of the table, Cain folded his arms upon it, leaning forward to regard Ambrose. "DG isn't the kind of girl to accept that. You know as well as I do. There has to be something else that we can do, to keep her from getting married off, and to keep us from coming under attack."

"Trust me, Cain, I'm trying." The other man said softly, eyes full of sadness as he stared down at his schematics. "I don't want to see DG put into this position either. Nor do I want the Queen to suffer any further than she already has. It frustrates me greatly that they would pull such a dirty trick right now, of all times, when we're trying to get everything back together."

Cain lowered his eyes to where Ambrose's hands had gathered together on the table, the quill in the advisor's grip trembling violently. The tin man cautiously placed a hand over them to stop the shaking. He could understand the advisor's frustration. Out of everyone, the pressure was most on Ambrose to provide the idea that might free them from this predicament. "We're all in this, Glitch. No matter what gets decided. You know that your friends are going to help you."

Ambrose's eyes rose to his face, and Cain felt a little proud of himself when his words managed cause the other man to smile faintly. "Thanks."

Then Ambrose abruptly pulled his hands free, the quill dropping to the table with a clatter as he reached up, one hand swiftly removing his glasses while the other clutched at his forehead. The man winced, Cain frowning in concern. "Ambrose? You okay?"

The other man smiled, but it looked quite forced, and Cain could see that he was a little paler than before. Ambrose kept his eyes shut, face tense around that false smile. "It's fine. Just a little pain that comes and goes. I think I'm still adjusting to the glasses. Silly things give me headaches."

It was an outright lie. Cain could taste it. He watched Ambrose carefully, as the man's dark eyes blinked back open. "Are you sure it's just the glasses? Maybe you should visit the alchemist, just to be on the safe side."

"Worrying about me still?" The other asked with a quiet chuckle. While there was still pain in his eyes, they were warmer now, as Ambrose teased him. "I've got all of my brain now. I doubt that I'll get lost and cause a major catastrophe, Cain."

"That doesn't mean that I don't still worry about you."

"Do you still worry about me most?"

"Yeah, maybe I do."

Ambrose's smile faltered slightly. "Cain..." His words trailed off, and Cain found those brown eyes searching him with more intensity. The tin man realized that the other was leaning closer, bending towards him across the table, and Cain was surprised that he didn't even want to try leaning away.

A knock on the door sounded thunderous in the silence, and Ambrose jumped like a startled cat, straightening back up with a panicked look in that direction, his face scarlet. Cain felt his own face was hot, taking advantage of the distraction to jump up to his feet. The tin man left Ambrose to clutch at his chest while he himself went to the door, pulling it open slightly. "Yes?"

"Message for his excellency." The attendant said with the usual bow, handing a folded letter over to Cain. Cain took it without another word, closing the door behind him. He had regained his cool by the time he went back by that table, offering Ambrose the missive.

The queen's advisor had shown impressive recovery, taking the letter from Cain with a casual movement. Ambrose folded it open, eyes scanning over the contents, while Cain watched the darkening expression on his face.

"What is it?"

"A message from Her Majesty." Ambrose's long fingers shifted, crumpling up the paper with absent ease, clutching it inside of a fist before touching his eyes to Cain's. "She has agreed to the terms proposed by Bodwingale. DG is scheduled to be married to Prince Farthinberg by the turn of two moon cycles."

Cain blew out a sharp breath, cheeks puffing with the action. He gripped his hat, shifting it habitually. So, the Queen had made her decision, and DG had just gone from world hero to world bargaining chip. The tin man frowned. "No getting around it then, is there?"

"The Queen's word is law." Ambrose said quietly, fists knocking gently on the top of the table. "If she says two moon cycles, then it will be two moon cycles. That or war, which the kingdom cannot afford right now."

DG was already planning to run. Once she heard the news that the marriage was on, the girl was most certainly going to make an escape. If she went out into the wide world all alone, if anything were to happen to her... Cain sighed faintly. "DG could always leave. They can't fight about her if she isn't here to fight over, right?"

Ambrose sharply shook his head. "They'll fight anyway, I'm sure of it. This marriage isn't just intended as blackmail, Cain. Bodwingale knows that they already have this kingdom for their own, if they so want it. But masking the takeover with a marriage makes them look much better than if they took the kingdom by force. After all, they have the other kingdoms to keep in consideration. If the Queen can opt for the marriage, then things will come to a peaceful resolution."

Somehow, Cain found that he couldn't accept that. He thought back to Jeb, blushing at the mention of DG. He thought about the young woman herself, who despite the teasing in her manner had looked at him with eyes that were quite afraid. "What if someone were to take DG out of here?"

His words had Ambrose looking at him sharply, frowning. "The Queen has spoken. This is a decree. To go against the Queen's will... that would be an act of treason. I'm sorry, Cain. By now, the Queen has sent this same message to the royals of Bodwingale. There is no going back." His voice was tinged with regret, shaking his head helplessly.

"Okay, Glitch. Ambrose. I understand." Cain nodded hurriedly. He reached down, lifting the tactics book up off the table, shaking it lightly in the air. "Thanks for the book. I'll return it when I'm done with it."

"Sure, Cain." Ambrose nodded, blinking a few times before throwing the crumpled missive into the bin beside his table, as the man bent back over his sketches. "I'll see you at dinner."

Cain gave a silent signal of agreement, pulling open the door to step out. As he closed it, the tin man leaned back against it, frowning at a space on the floor somewhere in front of him. If DG went, then Cain was going with her. He had made up his mind on that. If they went, then there was no telling Ambrose, since the advisor's opinions on the matter were clear. If they ran, then they were running solo.

* * *

It was easier to scale down the wall from her window than DG thought it would be. She was glad that she'd had practice climbing out the second story of her home back in Kansas, the experience proving quite useful to her in this circumstance. The young woman glanced down below her, judging the distance to the ground. It was finally safe to jump. DG let herself go, bracing for the landing in the bushes underneath her. They cushioned her fall, and the princess brushed brambles off the seat of her jeans before bending to pick up the pack which she had thrown out earlier for just this reason.

DG crept her way along, as silent as possible. There weren't many guards on watch outside, since most were posted on the interior to keep a watchful eye on the other royals. She found it all too easy to make her way across the gardens, heading in the direction of the stables. If she could get hold of a horse, then DG knew that she would make far better time than on foot. Hitchhiking for a ride was out of the question, considering that everyone between here and Milltown knew her face.

The woman settled into a low crouch, tips of her fingers brushing at blades of grass as DG eased her way to the opening of the stables. She angled her head carefully forward, trying to peer inside and determine if anyone else was in the place. The coast did seem clear. Too easy. With a self-satisfied smile, DG rose up to stand and went to enter the stables.

A hand clamped down lightly over her mouth, strong grip catching briefly hold of her. DG's fight or flight instincts kicked in, the girl seeking to break the hold of this assailant. Her elbow cocked sharply backwards, slamming into the torso of the one who held her. DG heard a surprised breath rush out of the one behind her, the girl whirling around, intent on going for the eyes next, just like Glitch had taught her.

She stopped when she realized who it was. "Cain?"

"Hey, kiddo..." Cain said breathlessly, clutching his stomach where her elbow had knocked the wind out of him. He struggled to get his breath back.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry." DG reached over to steady the ex-cop, feeling utterly horrible.

Cain's head bobbed dismissively, still laboring to recover as he pointed into the barn. "Got some horses ready. Go in."

Considering how miserably she had already started the adventure, DG didn't question the order. The woman headed into the stable with a nod. She found that two horses were already saddled, one for her and one for Cain. Judging by the professional packing job, the man had been hard at work getting them prepared for the trip.

DG found Cain joining her, the man giving her a boost up onto the horse. His face was still flushed from the blow he'd received, but his pride was far too great for him to waste any further time with it. Cain swung up onto his own horse, taking hold of the reins before looking over to DG, his blue eyes bright in the dim lights of the stable. "You ready, kiddo? Once we go, there is no coming back without a fight. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I am not going to get married because I just happened to be born a princess. I am certainly not going to marry some stuck up jerk, either. There has to be another solution. I'm going to find it, and fix this mess."

Cain nodded at DG's words, face blank. "Okay, kid. Then let's go."

* * *

The hallways that Ambrose wandered through were dark, the moon outside casting long shadows through the windows, making the branches of trees and bars on the glass take on the appearance of claws inching across the floor. He wondered how he had come to be out here, wandering at this time of night, without reason. His feet were bare. He noticed them with a downward glance, as well as finding that he was dressed for bed. So why was he not in bed?

Ambrose found that his mind could not give him the answer. In fact, his mind was oddly blank, a detached hum somewhere in his body. He rounded the corner, passing closed doors, letting his feet carry him on the track that he seemed fixed upon. There must have been a reason. There had to be. If he was just patient, a little longer, Ambrose knew that the answer would come to him.

_They can't fight over her if she isn't here to fight for, right?_

The sound of Cain's voice had him jumping in fright. He whirled sharply around, expecting to see the tin man standing there. Despite the clear presence of the words, Ambrose found that the hallway was empty all around him. No, it wasn't Cain that his mind was searching for. It was something..

Something to do with the words?

Ambrose resumed his steps, fingers sliding up through his hair, the tips of them brushing over the scar tissue underneath the strands. Something about what Cain said... He willed his brain to understand. It was right there, in plain sight, but he could not determine _what_ it was.

_What if someone were to take DG out of here?_

That ghostly voice again! When he found Cain, he was going to give him a sound lecture! When he found Cain, he was going to give him a sound lecture! When he found Cain, he..

Ambrose halted, catching sight of himself out of the corner of his eye, reflected in one of the large mirrors of the hallway. The answer slammed home.

It wasn't what Cain had said -- it was how he'd said it. Regretful, somber. Decided.

Feeling the breath steal out of his chest, Ambrose turned his head towards the mirror.

The reflection there showed him the image of a wild haired man, clothes ragged, the dull gleam of a zipper reflecting the moonlight from outside. Ambrose blinked once. Then the image pounced forward, reaching THROUGH the glass, and the urgent face of Glitch barked at him sharply as that shadow self shook him firmly by the shoulders. "WAKE UP!"

Ambrose bolted upright with a strangled cry of terror, fists clenching at the covers of his bed, trembling violently.

It took time for him to shake off the web of the nightmare -- well, it _was_ scary! -- as Ambrose tried to get himself back under control. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head to clear it. His heart was racing in his chest, the man soothing fingers over that pounding organ to calm its pace. What had that been about?

Then, he remembered. Cain!

Throwing off his blankets, Ambrose made a mad dash off of his bed, lacking any semblance of grace in his haste. His fingers snagged the robe hanging off the post nearby, throwing it on without much care how it settled, merely thankful for the warmth it provided him considering how his pajamas had been soaked by a cold sweat.

He burst through the door to Cain's room in record time. If he were wrong, and he managed to startle the man awake, then all he had to worry about was dodging a bullet or two. If he were right, Ambrose knew there was more to fear than the tin man's wrath.

His eyes spun wildly over the room, finding it dark. Ambrose reached blindly to the lamp near the door, hearing the gas inside it hiss before it lit, casting light throughout the room, forcing his eyes to adjust. No shouts, no gunfire, just silence to greet him.

The bed was flawlessly made from the earlier morning. It had not been touched at all tonight. Not only that, but gone also were Cain's belongings, few that they were. The room looked entirely empty, as if no one had been staying in it. It looked abandoned.

Ambrose's legs folded underneath him as if a string were cut, landing on his knees and only belatedly putting his hands to the floor in front of him to brace himself up. He stared at the bed in disbelief. "Cain.. What in nine hells possessed you to do it..?"


	4. Chapter 4

"We ain't getting no hauls no more!" Roared the toothless Captain, rallying with a few of the others who sounded their complaints in chorus. "How we goin' to survive if we ain't got no money?"

"Can't find no riches nowhere." Another muttered, before taking another sloppy gulp from his bottle, the liquid as much on his shirt and chin as it was in his mouth. "Now that them royals are back in charge! Pirate can't ply his trade no more."

They had been lamenting like this for weeks now. While it had once been easy for them to scrounge across the lands, collecting riches as they saw fit with no law to stop their efforts, the shipmates now found themselves coming upon hard times. With the tin men back in Central City, it was only a matter of time before they started patrolling the coastal towns. Then it would be back to the old days, where pirates had to work hard to make a living.

"I know a place where there are some riches." A low voice spoke up from nearby.

One of the prisoners which they had gathered while on shore. The ship's Captain guffawed before kicking harshly at the man who was tied up on their deck. "Bribing us ain't gonna get yer freedom. We'll put you to work, sell you, or kill you. Two ways profit, one way fun."

The man forced himself back upright with a grunt of pain, turning his eyes up to the pirates laughing at him. "No. I'm serious. I know a place that has a ton of riches. A palace on an island up north. It's been abandoned for ages. They left all their belongings behind. You could get a fortune."

There was a note of truth to the man's tone. It made the Captain appraise him with more consideration. "Palace to the north, ey? No doubt you could navigate us to it, in exchange for something, am I right?"

"Just my freedom." Was the simple response. "The treasures are yours. But once we reach the Northern Island, you let me go. Deal?"

"Deal." The Captain grinned broadly, barren gums glistening in his mouth. With a gesture of his hand, some of the men scrambled to untie the prisoner. "What be your name?"

"Zero." Rising gingerly up to his feet, the man rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. Cool eyes locked on the Captain's face, before he smirked. "My name is Zero."

* * *

He had been on the move since they had let him free, abandoned in the middle of the wilderness with nothing but a small knife and his own clothes to take with him. It had seemed all too beneficial for him. By nature, he was suspicious. So he kept moving, barely stopping to rest, not sure where he wanted to go but knowing that he needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Resistance, as well as fleeing as far as he could from Azkadellia's territory.

There could be no trusting of the Longcoats. By now, they would have had him marked. He could not think of a single man in his unit who would not have jumped at the chance to hand him over to the Sorceress for a slice of glory and possible promotion.

Zero was not going to let them catch him.

Now that he had landed himself on this ship of pirates, he was determined to make the situation work out to his benefit. That was something he was good at. Zero understood how the minds of these men operated.

A breeze blew over them, carrying an arctic chill. They were moving steadily north. While they had not yet reached the iced land, Zero could guess that it was close. Not that it mattered much to him. The further to the north he was, the further away from Azkadellia he'd be.

He clutched the tattered leather of his coat around him, turned his eyes back across the waters, and smiled to himself. Things were turning out just how he wanted them to.

* * *

Ambrose couldn't remember ever feeling so mentally and physically exhausted.

The city had fallen into chaos before breakfast the following morning. Word had already spread that Princess DG had fled from the palace upon hearing of the planned marriage. It was also known that Wyatt Cain left with her, no sign of them having been found yet inside of the city walls despite an extensive search. The royals of Bodwingale were up in arms with the news. Accusations were already flying at the Queen, insinuating that she had planned for her daughter's escape with the tin man.

He'd spent all day coordinating search efforts, handling diplomatic relations to try and calm the nobles of Bodwingale, and avert the war that threatened to crash down on them. All that before lunchtime!

To make matters worse, his head had been killing him all day. The pain lanced through without warning or mercy. Ambrose was thankful that he had not bothered eating lunch, since he had lost everything that he'd eaten for breakfast sometime during the afternoon. Cain's advice to visit the alchemists seemed more tempting now than it had yesterday. Though he would put it off until later just to spite the absent man who had left him with all this trouble.

Ambrose hurried into the meeting chamber, where the royals waited tensely for some news of the princess. He went directly to the queen without sparing a look to the others present in the room. Lowering, he knelt smoothly before her. "Your Majesty. The scouts still report that they have been unable to locate Princess DG and Wyatt Cain. I have extended the search perimeter, with both tin men and military personnel now involved. If they are anywhere within range, then we will surely find them."

The queen nodded slowly, face drawn with worry. "I trust that our men are doing their best, Ambrose. We must be vigilant, then, and wait for word from them."

"Do you really think that's good enough?" Prince Farthinberg asked loudly, his tone harsh with anger. "You plan to simply sit and wait while my intended bride runs away with that... that.. commoner?"

Ambrose felt his teeth grinding together. Though, it should not have upset him to hear. Cain deserved that and more for getting them all into this. DG, too, though it was harder for him to work up the strength to be mad at the princess. He would have expected Cain to be more sensible than this!

"Naturally, we are worried for our daughter." Ahamo said mildly. He found it better to say very little during these proceedings. The man knew that the choice words he longed to speak would have gotten them into more trouble. "If we have no word by dusk tonight, then I personally will go in search of DG."

"My love.." The queen whispered, reaching over to touch his arm.

"That won't do, Highness." Ambrose rose swiftly in front of the pair. "You have only recently been reunited with Her Majesty after many years of being forced apart. She will need you here for comfort until we can return Princess DG safe and sound. I will go in your place. I have already left instructions with the other members of the royal council. Everything has been accounted for in my absence."

"I understand that you are friends of Princess DG and that Cain fellow..." The queen of Bodwingale stated suspiciously. "Are we to be convinced that you will really chase them down and return them here, by force if necessary?"

Ambrose did not even hesitate before answering. "If my Queen commands it, then I will carry out her word. Princess DG is bound in the contract of marriage between your kingdom and ours, so she must honor it. Wyatt Cain knowingly commited treason against this kingdom, so it is my place to see that he is arrested and brought back to Central City for judgement. That is my duty to this kingdom."

The queen's lavender eyes were soft towards him, wondering. She knew that he had something in mind, though it would have been dangerous to ask. Now, out of all times, they needed to appear stronger in their convictions than ever before. "Ambrose. Find my daughter. Bring her back to us. See to Mister Cain's arrest as needed. We put our trust in you that this matter will be settled before the intended wedding date. My blessings go with you, old friend."

"I will not fail you, Majesty." He couldn't. Ambrose gave a slight bow, before turning to exit, hurrying to start the chase.

* * *

"Out of the question."

Ambrose frowned. "Excuse me?"

The alchemist turned away from him with while shaking his head. He jabbed a wrinkled finger against the charts featuring images of brains, tapping firmly. "This is the projected stage of neural recovery after replacement of the brain within the head. Complete recovery would be in the seventh stage, when assimilation back into the body is finished. Despite your early recovery of consciousness, the fact remains that your brain is still only in the fourth stage. While it is feasible that you could function normally through the rest of the process, traveling across the country is unacceptable, not to mention highly risky."

"I have to go, though." Ambrose protested as he stared at the images on the charts. "The queen is sending me specifically to see that this is accomplished. There must be something that I can do to manage to travel without the risks of damaging my brain."

"Brain reattachment is the single most complicated operation which can be performed on the human body. It is one thing to be able to carve it out, which any mobat with a scalpel can do. Getting the brain to successfully rejoin the body takes precision. It's bad enough with you running around the city, Mister Ambrose, but if you go out riding on horses, monkeying around the wilderness, you are going to put even more strain on the healing nerves."

"So, basically, you're not going to give me a clean bill of health or permission to go on this journey." Ambrose thought about it. "...Is there another alchemist that I can talk to? Perhaps one a bit more lenient?"

"There's no getting around it." The man shook his head. "All that you ask will give you the same answer that I just did. You're taking your life into your hands if you set foot outside of this city, Advisor. Consider it a warning."

"Yeah, thanks." Ambrose headed for the door, slipping on the thick wool of his traveling coat. He hoped that his sarcasm wasn't too thick. After all, the man was just doing his job as any respectable physician would do.

He'd just have to be careful. Considering his options were to worry about his brain's care, or to worry about another downfall of the kingdom, Ambrose found that there was little question on which he'd choose.

Besides, how dangerous could it be to chase after DG and Cain?

* * *

They'd ridden as far as they could under cover of darkness, Cain putting enough distance between them and Central City that they would have all of the next day to move at a comfortable pace. He anticipated that the search to locate them would start inside the walls of the city before spreading outward. Fast as the operations might have been, Cain knew that they would be faster. Once they had crossed several leagues down the Old Road, the tin man finally decided that it was time for them to take a break, tend to the horses, and figure out their next course of action.

DG groaned as she slid off her horse, reaching down to rub at muscles that were sore in ways that she could never have imagined they'd be. "Ow. I don't know how you do it, Cain. Riding like this all the time. I think I'm going to be sore for a week!"

"You get used to it, kiddo." Cain went about taking care of the horses, tying them up for the time being. They were going to have to cut them loose soon. If they were going to start moving cross country, then the wilderness deeper in was going to be too thick for horses to tread safely. If they wanted to avoid being found, then they needed to leave the main path as soon as they could. "Now where are we headed from here? I don't suppose you had a plan in mind, before you decided to go running off into the O.Z.?"

"Duh." DG made a face at him, and Cain wondered what the hell that meant. She rolled back her shoulders until hearing a few pops. "I figured that we'd go up north. Maybe go stay with Raw for a while. Nobody will think to head all the way up there to bother his people now that viewers aren't in demand anymore."

Cain guessed that made sense. "It'll take some time getting all the way up there. We'll have to pass by the Northern Island on the way. If anything, we can stop there to rest up and get whatever supplies might be in the palace for us to use before continuing on. Are you sure that you're up to it?"

"Positive. I'd rather face a blizzard than that stupid prince. And then we can figure out what to do about Bodwingale's army. I'm sure that something'll come up. I just have that kind of luck, you know?"

"Whatever you say."

* * *

Raw stood outside of his small wooden hut, looking up at the clear night sky overhead. The stars twinkled anxiously, very active. Warning. The viewer's eyes passed languidly over them, attempting to unlock the message that they were sending to him.

He felt a sudden feeling of foreboding. Something was amiss with his friends. Even from so far away, Raw could feel it in his heart. He pressed a hand to his chest.

"Raw okay?"

Kalm's youthful voice drew his attention down, as the elder seer regarded the younger. Raw shook his head. "No. Something wrong. Raw's friends... in trouble."

Kalm nodded sagely in answer. "Then Raw must go to friends. Help friends."

"Yes." He raised his eyes back to the sky, troubled. Things were turning now in the world, moving on an inevitable collision course. Raw knew that his friends were caught up in the middle of the whirlwind. Though he had the option of ignoring it, of leaving them to their fate, Raw's heart would not let him falter.

After all, his friends would need some courage on their side.

That, and without Raw around to help keep them in line, they really were kind of hopeless, but that was just the way of "civilized folk".

The next day, Raw was prepared to go. He gave assurances to the people of his village that he would return very soon, once things had been sorted out. Raw gave Kalm a warm embrace. The younger seer looked over his shoulder when he drew back, then pointed his attention to the sky behind him.

Raw turned slowly, blinking without comprehension at the tiny bird that landed on a low branch of a tree in front of him. He approached it, head bobbing curiously as he tried to determine its intent.

Then Raw saw the small scroll that was tied to its leg. A message sent all the way out here?

* * *

DG had found the way to the palace without failure this time. It was home, after all, one which she could now remember without fault, despite the elements which showered white around them.

They'd bundled themselves thick against the snow, Cain steadying the girl when she lost her footing in the uneven ground. He had managed to get them there without incident, the trip rather anti-clamactic compared to their last hurried trek across the world. Frankly, the tin man had expected a little more excitement than this. Perhaps DG had been right about her luck after all.

"Hey, the door's open." DG observed, directing Cain's attention over to it. Sure enough, it was wide open, blackness beyond the pristine white.

He tried to remember if any of them had bothered to close the door when they left the first time. Wasn't Glitch the last one to have stepped out of the palace? "Ah. Glitch must have forgot to shut it while he was getting me to the wagon. I wouldn't count on it being much warmer in there than it is out here, if that's the case."

"It's bound to be better than this." DG bent down to slip in through the opened door, stomping some of the snow off her boots as she entered. The palace was quiet as a tomb, just as it had been before, the towering pillars vanishing up into darkness overhead. She moved forward to make room for Cain as the tin man entered behind her, schooling her voice quieter to avoid hearing the disturbing echo of it rippling back at her from all directions of that darkness. "I'm glad that Mother didn't decide to move back here. This place does give me the creeps."

Cain brushed snow off his hat, taking measure of the silent palace around them. "Probably because you know what happened here. Or else it's the location."

"This place just seems... sad."

They walked together, footsteps clattering loudly in the quiet of the chamber. Cain had taken the lead for them in the direction of the stairs that would carry them to the living areas above. "Sad or no, it'll keep us warm and safe for the rest of tonight. I can probably break some of the furniture down for a fire, and with all the drapes on everything, there won't be any shortage of blankets to wrap up in."

"What are we going to do about food?" DG asked curiously, unable to argue with any of Cain's logic, though the thought of him breaking her mother's furniture made her hesitent.

"Once we're camped down, I'll go out and see if I can't hunt something up."

"Sounds good to me, we--" DG was interrupted as Cain clamped a hand over her mouth, the man quite abruptly hauling her up against the shadows of the wall nearby. Eyes wide, DG tried to figure out what in the hell had caused Cain to do it, before she heard what he must have heard before her.

Voices in the room ahead of them.

Several voices, by the sounds of things. All of them sounded male, and pretty rough.

"He weren't lying when he said there'd be a load here." One of them remarked happily. DG and Cain eased carefully forward, peering in through the door to see who or what was inside.

The man inside the room looked incredibly shady, and in DG's opinion looked like they could have used a lesson on proper personal hygiene. They silently witnessed the band of men rummaging through drawers, tossing over chairs and furniture as they undraped everything with a reckless care, ignoring when things fell over and broke in their haste. DG was trying to figure out what exactly it was that they were doing in her family's palace, all the way out in the middle of nowhere, searching through all her things. Then she saw the men start stuffing things into their pockets, and into bulging knapsacks, and the princess realized that they were robbing the place.

"Hey!" Shouting before she could stop herself, DG clambered up to her feet and charged into the room, hearing Cain groan somewhere behind her. "You put that back! That belongs to my family, you... you... robbers!"

Too late did it register to DG that she really was an idiot sometimes. "Um.." The girl let out a weak laugh, backing up from all the pairs of eyes that had locked on her. "S-sorry, guys. Uh.. just kidding. By all means, carry on."

"Grab her, men!" One of them shouted hoarsely, DG yelping as the nearest man made a lunge for her. His grab might have succeeded, if not for the fist that slammed with vicious efficiency into the guy's nose.

Cain had burst inside, slinging her under an arm and hauling the princess off her feet by an inch or two. The tin man's gun was already drawn, firing at the nearest robber, which left the thief clutching at his arm with a howl of pain where he'd been shot. DG found herself getting dragged along by Cain, stumbling along as he got them out of the room, backing down the hallway. Between the loud clap of the gun, she shouted to him, "My mother's room can lock from the inside. We were supposed to barricade ourselves in there if the palace came under attack. If we make a run for it, we can make it."

There was no verbal response from Cain, but DG did not expect one. The man was too focused on what needed to be done, never wasting time or energy beyond that if he didn't have to. DG pushed past him, running down the hallway, hearing the pained shouts of the robbers as Cain held them off with his gun. The man's blue eyes were intense, assessing which thief provided the next highest threat, picking them off in such a way that every bullet would count. DG snagged hold of his sleeve as he backed up by the door she'd opened, Cain jumping into the room with her.

The girl pushed the doors closed, slamming her palms against the familiar magical pattern carved into the wood above the handles. They heard the sound of something clicking into place, just in time before the muffled sounds of the thieves trying to push inside began. DG took a few steps backwards, doubling over in an effort to catch her breath, seeing that Cain was equally winded from their run. "That'll hold them out. These doors were double reinforced. The magic will also act as a barrier to keep them from being able to burn or blast their way through."

"Good thing for us that the queen knew how to be prepared." Cain managed between pants. "Until we figure out what to do now, we should be safe in here."

"Don't be so certain of that, Cain." A familiar, cold voice said from behind them.

DG and Cain turned slowly, the girl swallowing thickly as she raised both hands up into the air in a gesture of surrender. She stared at the three men who were standing inside the room with weapons drawn, obviously having been part of the bandits outside the doors. One of the men, though.. DG blinked in recognition. "Hey, I know you. You're that guy."

Beside her, Cain's voice was deadly flat. "Zero..."

* * *

"While I appreciate the escort, gentlemen, I really think it's overkill."

Ambrose smiled charmingly at the men on horseback who shadowed him. Prince Farthinberg's own select band of merry adventurers, whom the advisor had found out were sent personally to see him along on his mission to return Princess DG back to her betrothed. Their humorless demeanors weren't so off-putting, as much as their silence. He might as well be traveling with a trio of machines instead of people. With machines he could have at least programmed them to respond to his voice patterns. They were making him feel invisible, which was a feeling that Ambrose had always despised.

"You guys _can_ talk, right?"

"Sir, our vocal chords work just fine, sir!" The rider closest to him clipped out, loud in his ear.

"I would say so." Ambrose's laugh was weak, without any joy. This was going to be a long trip.

"Permission to ask a question, Sir!" The rider to his right barked, causing Ambrose's head to whip that way.

"Uh. Sure. Yes. You don't have to ask perm--"

"We request that you report to us your plan, Sir. Where is our intended destination, and how do you intend to locate the prisoner, Sir?"

"Cain isn't a prisoner.." Ambrose shook his head, sighing faintly. Well, at least the tin man wasn't one yet. "To answer your question, uh, soldier, I intend to locate Mister Cain using one of my most highly inspired inventions."

"What invention would this be, Sir?"

Oh, he was so glad that they asked! Ambrose smiled smugly, reaching into the pack tied against his saddle. He drew a small compass up into his palm. Had DG been there, the girl would have recognized it immediately. "You, gentlemen, have the distinct honor of being able to use my tracking device. It can be re-calibrated to find any specific item, person, metallic or magical trace, with only a five percent margin for error. Currently, I am calling it the ITMTC."

"...What's that mean?" In their uncertainty, they had forgotten to call him "sir". Ambrose tsked at that.

"ITMTC -- Irritating Tin Man Tracking Compass." He smirked. "Since only one of their ranks currently holds the esteemed privilege of being the most irritating tin man that I have ever known, the compass knows exactly to where to find Mister Cain. With a seven percent margin for error."

"It was only five percent before, Sir." The rider on his left reminded him.

"Numbers are still hard." Ambrose admitted at a mutter, spurring his horse along at a more hurried pace. "Regardless, gentlemen, we go north!"

* * *

His escorts drove him harder and further than a tin man with a mission. The repeated attempts he made to get a break from riding were ignored by the other three, Ambrose admiring the fact that they still looked fresh and alert in their saddles. He, however, was having a poor time of things. The man blinked blearily down at the compass in his palm, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes sharpened on anything at all. Finally, he'd had enough.

"I'm stopping. I have to." His limbs felt heavy as Ambrose slid down from his saddle, leaning against the bulk of his horse for support. He wondered why his head was swimming so much.

"But, Sir, we--"

"If you tell me one more time that we're on a strict time schedule, I am going to castrate you in your sleep." Ambrose hissed through his teeth. That was hardly appropriate for a royal advisor to say, but right now he could not bring himself to care. His vision was transmitting the trees around them to him in waves of motion, heightening the disorientation. Ambrose closed his eyes and rested his head against the leather of his saddle. "Just one minute, gentlemen. Humor me, I beg you, or else you'll be carrying me the rest of the way there."

Thankfully -- blessedly! -- they relented for the time being, sitting quietly in their saddles where they lingered nearby him. For the first time during the trip, Ambrose found their silence to be a gift from the Ancients. It gave him time to think without having the world moving underneath him.

He had to be more careful than this. For all that he knew, these men could slip word back to their prince that his condition was indeed poorer than they'd let on. Keeping up appearances was the only way to keep their footing secure. As much as Ambrose wanted to lay down there on the soft grass, as much as he wanted to lose every bite of food he'd eaten for the past week, as much as he wanted to give up right now, he would not yield.

"I really need to get out to the stables more often. Terribly out of practice." Keeping his tone casual, Ambrose lifted his head back up. His body protested as he pulled himself back up onto his horse, casting a light smile to the others before setting his horse forward at a walk again. "Let's go."

When he got his hands on Cain, he was going to make him suffer for each and every second of this that he went through.

_Just you wait, Wyatt Cain._

* * *

"You can't imagine how surprised I am to see both of you again." Zero drawled, appraising them with his cool gaze.

"Wish I could say that it was a happy reunion," DG said dully, "but I think both Cain and I had hoped we wouldn't run into you again."

They stood side by side, her and Cain, while the bandits continued to loot the bedroom of the queen around them. Zero did not seem interested in partaking of their looting. He was focused completely on them, with Cain's gun trained in their direction with a steady grip. Zero nodded at her comment. "Strange how these things work out, Princess. Here I thought I was going to be far, far away from all of you, and then you show up out of nowhere."

DG rolled her eyes. "Fate's got a helluva sense of humor."

"Let her go, Zero." Cain said tersely, blue eyes icy. "Your men are getting their loot, you can let them take me as a hostage if they want, but bad things are going to happen if your guys lay a finger on DG."

Zero cocked his head in the direction of the bandits. "These aren't my men, Cain. You could just say that I needed transportation, and they decided to work out a business deal with me."

"Oh, don't want to play with the big bad pirates?" DG snapped.

Narrowing his eyes at the woman, Zero took a few steps closer. It made Cain grow even more tense, on the verge of lunging at the man. Zero bent down to her level, murmuring lightly. "Listen here, brat. All I'm looking for is a nice little escape, to get myself as far from the O.Z. as possible, and to put as much distance between me and your crackpot family as I can. Especially your crazy bitch of a sister."

DG frowned. "Former bitch, thank you. Er, witch. Whatever."

"I don't care, kid." Zero said with a shake of his head, straightening away from her without even a glance towards Cain. He had not looked directly at Cain's face since they had come into the room earlier. It was as if Zero were trying to pretend that the tin man weren't even present. The former leader of the Longcoats turned slowly back to the bandits, checking their progress. "Are you guys about finished up here? It's getting late. If the temperature drops too much more, the boat's going to freeze in place."

"Yeah, ain't nothing else more here for us to carry." One of the men, this one with a long feather in his hat, spoke as he turned away from the dresser, hefting his full sack higher up onto his shoulder to balance the weight. His beady eyes appraised Cain and DG, before his lips split into a toothless grin. "Grab the pretty little waif. Get rid of the other. He gots a look about him that tells me he won't work or sell without a fight."

"Aye, Captain."

Cain and DG found themselves being grabbed by the bandits, hauled towards the locked doors. The one identified as the captain kicked harshly at the door, those magics which had sealed it on the outside not as protective from the inside, as both wooden doors swung open with the force. He laughed heartily to his men. "Seems to me that these silly magic tricks ain't going to work to get them out of all their messes, right boys?"

The men joined him in a chorus of hooted laughter, Zero watching on without expression. As they moved to haul DG and Cain out, the man spoke up abruptly. "Leave the girl with me. I'd say that your spoils outweigh her worth more than enough."

DG looked back at Zero in surprise. She fired an uncertain glance to Cain, before shaking her head at the captain. "Don't leave me here with this psychopath. You guys have been nothing but talk so far. Him, though, I've seen in action enough to know what he's capable of."

Cain scowled at Zero. "You'll get to take DG over my cold dead body."

Zero's eyes narrowed, leveling the barrel of the gun at Cain's chest. "You know... this scenario is getting a bit too familiar, Cain. I really should just put you out for good this time."

The bandits watched this interaction with some interest, before the captain snapped at his men. "All right, ya dogs, back down to the ship with ya. Bring the wench and leave the boys here to play."

Turning for the door, the captain was grinning happily.

Then, with a hoarse cry of pain, one of his men went flying past the double doors, landing in a heap in the hallway. The captain blinked. That expression was matched to perfection by the men who flanked him, as they watched two more of their comrades land onto the pile of bodies growing in the corridor outside. One particularly large pirate landed right in front of them, down on his stomach, still concious. As they watched, something dragged the man back out of their sight, and when he landed in front of them the second time, his big body was splayed uncomfortably on its back. The captain breathed out in disbelief, "What kind of beast be this here? This be more of yer magic, lass?" He looked quickly to DG.

"That isn't me." She was just as shocked as they were. Even Cain and Zero had been distracted by the unfolding phenomenon, staring out the door at the mess of men beyond. Then DG was gasping in delight as a shadow detached itself from down the hallway, a familiar figure coming into sight.

Ambrose stepped his way lightly amongst the unconscious bandits, walking directly on the chest of the large one as he came to stand in the opened doors. He took in the situation with a raised eyebrow, eyes passing from the pirates, to DG, to Cain, to Zero, to the pirates... and then back to Cain. "You."

The pirates slid back away, parting their ranks as the brown-haired man walked past them, cutting a path directly for Cain. Ambrose brushed stubborn bits of snow off the shoulders of his jacket, his voice strangely calm despite the fact he'd just mercilessly felled a group of armed bandits, plucking at a piece of lint as he addressed the tin man. "I have had... one hell of a time getting here to find you, Wyatt Cain. I pushed myself to the breaking point, to get here as quickly as I can, intent on doing just one thing."

"...Getting DG to safety?" Cain asked, not sure if he liked the look in Ambrose's eyes.

"Well, that too." The other man amended, before spinning in a smooth circle, sniffing delicately. Then, the collective group as a whole flinched as Ambrose's elbow cocked back with a precise, well-practiced drive into Cain's gut. That had the tin man doubled over quickly, gasping out before dropping down to a knee. Ambrose then brushed both hands together, nodding firmly in satisfaction. "But mostly because I wanted to do that."

"Under... stood.." Cain croaked out, face turning from scarlet to purple as he clutched at his torso.

"Good. I was hoping that would get through that thick head of yours." The smaller man murmured, before he looked over at the bandits once again. "Gentlemen: I will ask you nicely, just once, to put down the possessions of Her Royal Highness, and to leave this palace. If not..." Ambrose sighed faintly, easing gracefully into a fighting stance, "then my mood is perfectly suited to taking it out of your bones, one break at a time."

* * *

"I might have overdone it."

Ambrose propped his chin in a hand, where he sat primly atop a pile of bandits, lips pursed in thought. DG looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the fit of the captain's hat where she had swiped it from the unconcious man. "I dunno, Glitch. Seems like you got everything sorted just right."

Standing, the inventor smoothed both hands down the surface of his jacket with a wan smile to the princess. "Thanks. But you'll have to forgive me, DG, if I don't rush to put everything back in its place." Ambrose surveyed the recovered piles of loot, hands stationed on his hips. "Is he still unconscious, Cain?"

They both turned towards the tin man, who stood over the prone form of Zero. "Out cold. What was that move that you did to his head, anyway?"

"Oh, that?" Ambrose shrugged dismissively. "That was just a little of this, a little of that. Hard to remember in the heat of the moment."

"Still. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I'd never have believed it, Glitch." DG shook her head, fingers toying with the feather of the hat on her head. "If anything or anyone else decides to attack us on the trip, then we'll just send you after them."

"Yeah... About that."

He had their attention, Ambrose dropping his eyes from their faces. "Actually, I didn't come here to go with you on your journey, DG. I came here to bring you back. Both of you back, actually."

"What?" DG frowned. "Glitch, you can't be serious. You know that I don't want to marry that screwball."

"I know, DG. Believe me, you've made that abundantly clear to all involved what your feelings are on the matter." His eyebrows pulsed up momentarily. "But.. I have to take you back. You running away like this is just going to make things worse."

Ambrose laced his fingers together, finding himself nervous. "If you come back peacefully, then we might even be able to get Cain off with a warning or something. I should be able to come up with some excuse as to why he did this."

"What are you talking about, Glitch?" That came from Cain.

The loud clatter of footsteps sounded out in the hallway, Ambrose dropping his hands to his sides as he turned to the trio of men marching into the room. He frowned, snapping with irritation, "Didn't I order you guys to stay downstairs?"

"We have our orders, Sir. Our mission is to retrieve the Princess and to arrest or eliminate Wyatt Cain."

"Eliminate? Hold on now..." DG pulled the hat off her head, trying to figure out what to make of these three hardcore fellows, looking to Ambrose for answers, "who the hell are you guys, anyway?"

"Members of His Royal Highness Prince Farthinberg's personal security squad." As one, they snapped to attention, saluting her. "He has ordered that we bring you back to Central City at all costs."

Ambrose sighed. Now that those three were present in the room, there was no way he could pull off his plans! If word got back to the Prince that he wasn't carrying this out with the bravado that he had shown back in Central City... This could not have turned out any worse. DG was staring at him, the girl asking him directly, "Glitch? Are these guys with you?"

"Yes. I suppose His Highness was uncertain of how much of a fight Mister Cain would put up." Dark eyes flickered towards the tin man. "So these capable gentlemen were sent to accompany me, in order to see to Cain's arrest."

DG's mouth dropped open. She stepped over in front of Ambrose, shaking her head. "Arrest Cain? What are you talking about, Glitch? Have you gone insane?"

He felt the eyes of the three soldiers on his back. They were too attentive for his liking. Yes, they would most definitely report his behavior back to the prince, depending on how he handled this situation. The queen had sent him on this task, entrusting that he would come to a resolution that would not drag their kingdom into battle. Now, he was forced to make a hard decision.

His voice sounded detached to his ears as he spoke, the words coming out as flat as he could make them. "It is my duty, as Royal Advisor to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabel Ozma the Fifth, to guarantee that all those who would disobey her will are punished to the full extent of the law for their crimes. In the matter of Wyatt Cain, who knowingly went against the word of both the Queen and her advisor, his deed was no less than an act of treason which has placed the kingdom of the O.Z. in peril through his actions."

"You don't mean that." DG shook her head, eyes wide as saucers. "You can't mean that. Glitch..."

Drawing himself up, his dark eyes touched on hers. "Princess, I must insist that you address me by my proper name."

"Ambrose." Cain's voice was tense, drawing the advisor's attention. "Do you mean to tell me that you intend to go through with this? Bringing DG back by force, and locking me away in prison -- maybe even getting me executed?"

"It is regrettable that things must work out this way." Ambrose answered, feeling the muscles of his jaw clenching as he fought to keep all traces of emotion off his face. He said a silent prayer of thanks that his voice remained steady. "My duty is to the Queen, and to the kingdom of the O.Z."

DG looked past him to where the soldiers were standing, waiting. "It's because these guys are here, isn't it? They're forcing you to go through with this. Glitch, we can take them out and make a run for it. You could bust out more of those smooth moves." She saw the men grow more tense, as if waiting for just that to happen. "Just be brave, Glitch. You know that you've got it in you." Her hand settled down on his sleeve, eyes pleading with him.

Ambrose felt his heart sink at that look in her eyes, knowing what his answer was going to have to be. He forced himself to take a step back, his arm withdrawing from under her grip, that step backwards bringing him closer to the soldiers. "My apologies, Princess DG. While your friend Glitch may not have had the sense to know when to surrender, I am afraid that Ambrose is far too wise to fight the tide."

He hated himself in that moment, taking the opportunity to walk out through the doors, to try and shake off the gut-twisting sensation of his friends' betrayed expressions. "Restrain them, gentlemen. I will wait for you downstairs."

* * *

The two of them were brought down the stairs quickly enough, DG putting up more resistance as she yanked her arms in the hands which were holding them on either side. Cain came along more peacefully, features grimly set, his hands bound behind him. They were brought to where Ambrose was standing in front of a portrait of him and the queen, hands clasped loosely behind his back. He addressed the soldiers without turning around. "Are they secure?"

"Yes, Sir." The three answered in unison. DG's face was wet with tears, the sounds of her crying painfully loud in the silence of the chamber.

Ambrose nodded towards the painting. "Then get them out on the horses. We'll make good time back to Central City if we leave soon."

As they began to haul their captives along, DG choked on a sob, before yelling tearfully at the advisor, "You were supposed to be our friend! How could you do this to us?! If I'd have known getting your brain back was going to turn you into such a prick, I would have told you to keep it in the jar!"

It was no less than he deserved to hear, he supposed. Ambrose sighed. How was he going to find the means to explain to them that the situation wasn't what they thought it to be? Hopefully before they decided to hate him, or do something foolish.

Then he heard the whisper of Cain's blade unlatching. He began to turn, just in time for the tin man to finish slicing through the bonds which held his hands at his back. Cain's fist launched sharply into the face of the nearest soldier, while DG yelped in alarm. The girl stamped on the foot of the soldiers holding her, reaching for the wooden batons attached to their belts. With a loud cry, the woman swung it across the soldier's head on her left side.

Cain had managed to down the first soldier, then went for the third as DG made the distraction. His leg kicked out with violent force, slamming into the man's body. As the man sank low, Cain followed up the move with a rough blow to the soldier's temple.

Ambrose moved forward towards him to assist the tin man, just as he normally did, muscles tensing to finish dispatching the soldier for the fellow.

Then his head exploded with pain, fingers blindly clutching the air in the direction of where Cain stood, though he could see nothing through a sudden flash of white haze. He felt his momentum carrying him a step forward, before his limbs gave out and he felt himself falling. Something stopped him on the way down, something hard as iron but warm, and Ambrose dimly knew that they were Cain's arms. He thought he heard the man shout his name, but then Ambrose's world faded from blazing white to black.

"DG! What did you do that for?" Cain searched Ambrose intently in his concern, keeping both arms around the man as he tried to assess the advisor's condition.

"He was going to attack you." The girl said, throwing the wooden baton off to the side. She wiped her hands on the surface of her jeans, DG pale with shock. "I thought that he was going to take you out. I just moved without thinking. Is he okay?"

Was he? Cain had not been paying direct attention to the advisor, considering his focus on the soldier. He had seen Ambrose reaching out towards him, tense. Had the man's intention been to attack him? At DG's prompt, he checked more thoroughly through chestnut hairs for any signs of injury. Cain couldn't see any blood anywhere. It must have been a lucky swing on DG's part. "They aren't going to be out for very long, DG. We need to get moving if we are going to get away."

DG nodded swiftly, reaching down to gather up the packs of supplies that the soldiers had dropped. "Let's go." The girl slung the packs up over her shoulders, hurrying towards the opened door. She looked outside, then back. "Cain, come on. They've got horses out here. We have to leave him here. He's on their side, isn't he?"

"Yeah, kiddo." Cain said distractedly. His blue eyes slid over Ambrose's face, which was tense despite his lack of awareness. He did not want to leave the man here in this state. Everything in him protested. "Sorry, sweetheart..."

Easing that thin figure back down on the floor, Cain made sure that his limbs were at least resting comfortably. The tin man then stood up, eyes lingering on Ambrose, before he pulled his hat down further over his eyes as he followed DG back out into the snowy wasteland outside.

* * *

Zero opened his eyes to filtered daylight and the warm glow of a fire. The man tried to get his bearings, his head feeling as if he had drunk too much the night before. But it had not been liquor which had caused it to ache. It had been the unexpected figure of Ambrose Andersen swooping at him before the world went dark.

He sat up slowly, looking around him. There was no sign of the pirate group, the unconscious bodies strangely absent. Nor did he see any sign of Cain or the princess. Zero wondered if he was the only one left in the palace, but that didn't make any sense. Where had the fire come from? He couldn't remember making one between Ambrose hitting him and waking up right now.

"Finally awake? You've been out for hours. I didn't think I'd hit you that hard." A voice said quietly from nearby the fireplace.

Zero eased up off the bed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He narrowed his gaze towards the back of the chair that was positioned in front of the fire, now that he knew that he was not alone in the room. Zero's hands clenched into fists at his sides before the man stalked quietly towards it. He owed that bastard some retaliation.

He tensed up, then sprang forward, his fist striking out ahead of him around the front of the chair. Pale wrists clamped shut on either side of his forearm, as Zero found his attack suddenly turned against him. He was moving forward too fast to stop himself, the arm he'd extended twisting painfully as Zero found his face smashing down into the carpeted floor in front of the chair. That pain continued to lance up and down his arm, which was held suspended in the air above him, one of Ambrose's feet settling on the top of his shoulderblade.

"Tsk, tsk. You should know better by now. Wasn't the show with the bandits enough to convince you that trying things like this would be folly?" Ambrose stared down at him without pity, as Zero twitched with the pain that the position put him in.

Through gritted teeth, Zero growled out. "Okay... okay! I yield. Let me up. Ambrose!"

Ambrose did not relent at first, clearly thinking it over. There were risks to letting the man go free. Still, between the two of them, the advisor decided that Zero posed the least amount of threat. He released Zero's arm with a soft huff. "I wouldn't try that again. My mood has gone from bad to worse. I'm not the sort to lash out in violence, but damned if the idea doesn't sound tempting right now."

Zero peeled himself up off the floor, sinking back to sit as he rubbed at his face, wondering if the carpet had skinned his cheek. He tread cautiously forward, instinctively working towards keeping himself safe from Ambrose's temper, and the promise of violence associated with it. Looking up to the other man, he asked dryly, "Where'd your friends go?"

Something flashed over Ambrose's face, as he looked quickly away from Zero back to the fire. "They're gone. Everyone was gone by the time I came around. The soldiers who had come with me took the last of the horses. I assume that they went chasing after DG and Cain. Not sure about the pirates."

"You probably put the fear of the Ancients in them." Zero muttered darkly, testing the movements of his sore shoulder in its socket. "Where did you learn to fight like that? I'd heard a report from some of my men that you apparently attacked while rescuing the princess, but I figured they must have been mistaken."

"I don't remember." Ambrose squinted, the reflections of the flames dancing in his thoughtful eyes. "It was something I picked up along the way as Glitch. Something to protect myself from harm. Even with my brain gone, I still had enough instinct to understand that I'd need to know defense. If I ever remember who taught me how to do it, then I am going to have to thank them profusely next time I see them."

"Ah. So your friends abandoned you, the pirates took their ship and left, and we're the only two left in the palace?" Zero sneered as he pushed up to stand. "What are you going to do now, Ambrose?"

"I'm trying to decide that, actually." The advisor admitted. "The soldiers that came with me took my tracking compass, so finding out which direction Cain and DG went is going to be close to impossible. I can't return to Central City and face the Queen, having failed in the task she entrusted me with. I'd considered pitching myself off the balcony for a dramatic death, but frankly the heights spook me and Cain proved that it's possible to survive the fall." Ambrose smirked.

Zero wasn't sure how to respond to that. They settled into a tense silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound in the room. Zero wondered if he could manage a successful sneak attack while Ambrose's guard was down. The longer he looked at the other man, the more he decided that he really needed to spend his energy elsewhere. That, and Ambrose probably would have crushed him. Finally, Zero shifted, moving in the direction of the door. "Well. I'm leaving. I need to get back to making an escape."

Ambrose watched the former Longcoat and familiar enemy move to go, hands folding together across his stomach. "You won't get far. The weather has taken a turn for the worse. Conditions are ideal for a quick death to whatever creatures might try to chance it."

"I'm not staying here with you." Zero shook his head firmly, angry. No way in nine hells was he going to linger around, waiting for Cain to come back and finish what he'd started. "I'll take my chances with the snow, Ambrose." He spat the name mockingly.

The other man shook his head. "You're an idiot for trying, Zero, but maybe it's your destiny. I am sure I could name several individuals who wouldn't mind if you became a Longcoat-cicle out there. Letting you freeze in the snow would give us all a bit of justice." Ambrose lifted a hand, shooing the other man along.

"You better hope that we don't meet again, Ambrose." Zero growled, stabbing a finger towards the man. "You might have got the upperhand on me this time, but next time I'll be ready. Just you wait."

"The anticipation has given me the shivers." Ambrose retorted dryly, before adding, "Oh, wait. That's the draft. Mind that you close the door on your way out, hm?"

Snarling, Zero made sure to slam it especially hard behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

When a man said to be the most intelligent in the entire realm stated that a course of action was bad, then it was probably a good practice to listen. Unfortunately, Zero wasn't sure if he was going to survive long enough to let the lesson sink in.

The blinding conditions of the blizzard had made progress slow. He had lost his footing too many times to count, and judging by how sore his left foot was through the numb of cold, that last fall had twisted it or done worse. Zero couldn't work up the energy to pick himself up afterwards. He lay there, feeling the flakes of snow beginning to pile upon him, getting heavier as the time passed. By now, he'd long since stopped shivering, which Zero reckoned was a bad, bad sign.

Arctic winds howled around him, whistling in his ears. He imagined that it was calling his name.

No. That wasn't the wind. Someone was calling his name.

"Zero?!"

Despite his frozen state, Zero labored himself up a bit from where he lay in the snow, lifting his head to squint in the direction of the voice.

There was a large white beast coming towards him, thick arms swinging broadly through the air. Zero would have laughed if he had the energy, half mad in his current condition. If this was the image of death coming for him, then his expectations had been horrendously inaccurate. The beast lumbered near to where he lay, coming to a stop near his raised head.

Then, with an awkward sound that quickly twisted to an indignant squawk, the creature toppled over when it reached its thick white hands for him. A clumsy predator indeed. "Cripes! I knew this was going to be too top-heavy. One second, one second." As the beast pushed back up onto its feet, Zero realized that he was actually looking at several layers of fabric. He identified them as the drapes which had covered the furniture in the palace.

He was being rescued. Ambrose's voice was muffled. "Stay awake, Zero. I need you to keep conscious if we're going to make it back. You're lucky that I have practice with this stuff."

Hands grabbed at him, pulling him up, though Zero found that he could not feel his body anymore, and so he did not know what his limbs were doing. He could only lean heavily against the new pressure of fabric, feeling it brushing rough against his cheek as he lolled his head forward. Despite Ambrose's warning to stay awake, that was a losing battle. Within minutes, Zero had become dead weight as the man passed out.

* * *

_"I'm going to be a General when I grow up." The boy declared boldly._

_He continued to smack the point of his wooden sword against the rough trunk of the large oak tree in front of him, imagining it to be his enemy. It was a difficult battle, to be sure. He carried passionately through the motions of combat, parrying the thrusts coming at him, deflecting swords before delivering a brilliant offensive blow._

_Sunlight streamed down through the leaves of the trees where they were. It had been such a beautiful day, far too lovely to waste indoors with the adults discussing politics, royal intrigue and all around gossip. The subject of politics had never interested Zero very much, though he guessed that it was pretty important, considering how obsessed his parents were with the topic. His hair was slick with sweat from his exertions, darkened where it clung to his face._

_The boy saluted to his next opponent, before leaping forward to resume his volley of attacks against the tree trunk, speaking to the other youth nearby. "You could be one of my soldiers."_

_"I couldn't do that." The smaller brown-haired boy shook his head, shifting his feet where he leaned comfortably back against the same tree trunk. His eyes were focused on the open book propped up on his raised knees, fingers flipping a page even as he answered. "I'm too smart for the military."_

_"There's nothing stupid about the military." Zero said with a scowl, pausing with the point of his sword resting flat against the tree._

_"Not at all." The other said sarcastically. "People who voluntarily put themselves into situations where death or dismemberment are common strike me as highly intelligent individuals."_

_Zero blanched. Okay, so there was a point to that. "Still. You just have to be really good at fighting, and try not to die. I think being in battles would be exciting. Plus, I'm sure that Generals are too important to be in the middle of fighting. I'd probably just be watching other people fight and bossing them around."_

_"You've got the skill at being bossy learned. I don't know if you're that good a fighter yet, though."_

_The only response he could come up with for that was to stick his tongue out at the other boy. What did Ambrose know about fighting anyway? The other boy didn't even know how to hold a wooden sword properly. And even when Zero had shown him how, the scrawny youth had looked afraid to swing it for fear it might break him. "I don't know why I hang out with you. You're mean, you never smile, you have no clue how to have fun. You're as bad as an adult!"_

_"Opinions on my state of maturity would have more credibility if they came from someone who didn't just stick his tongue out at me." Ambrose responded lightly, turning a page of his book. "As to why you hang out with me," his thin shoulders shrugged, "probably because we're close in age, neighbors, and your parents are in similar social standing with my grandfather. You could go play with the farm kids from the next town. I doubt your parents would like it, though."_

_Zero hummed in frustration. He couldn't figure out why his parents would possibly want to hang out with an old kook like Garland Andersen. After all, everyone knew that the guy was crazy. Talk of his secret experiments and bizarre tinkerings were a hot topic in the taverns, or at least that's what Zero's uncle had told him. And Ambrose, left in Garland's care after the deaths of his parents, was turning out to become just like the eccentric old man._

_But Zero also knew that despite the fact that everyone thought Garland was crazy, he was still considered a Very Important Man. Garland Andersen had ties to the royal family. Zero was jealous every time he heard Ambrose talk about the palace visits that his grandfather had taken him along to. Ambrose was going to become a Very Important Man someday, too. And despite how much his behavior sometimes annoyed Zero, the fact remained that he was one of Zero's few friends._

_He tapped his sword against the tree, enthusiasm lost for the moment. "Hey, Ambrose?"_

_"Yes?" Brown eyes, too big for the boy's face, blinked up at him over the top of the book._

_"When you become really important, will you still be nice to me? Even if I don't become General?"_

_Ambrose didn't answer right away. He had to think about the question first. Zero would have just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but not Ambrose! Maybe that was why people thought he was so smart?_

_Then the corners of Ambrose's mouth curled up into a tiny smile. "Sure, Zero. I'll still be nice."_

Ambrose moved around the kitchen in a disjointed manner, not quite sure of the things he was doing. He had not had to perform a task like cooking for fifteen annuals. Brilliant inventor that he might have been, the man found it seemingly impossible to even manage boiling a pot of water in his rusty state. He wiped his hands over the cloth apron he'd thrown on, rolling his sleeves back up on his arms as he reached for the items on the stove again. Ambrose had learned it was safer that way, since the last time he'd reached for a pot of heating water, the sleeve of his jacket began to smolder.

Grabbing onto the handles of the pots and pans he had positioned over the burners, he brought them off the top of the stove, walking hurriedly over to the large vat in the center of the room. Once upon a time, that vat had been used by the cooks to make stews for the palace. Now it was being used to thaw out a human. Ambrose was careful as he dumped the heated water in with the rest, his hour's labor having managed to get Zero submerged up to his chest. Steam curled up from the surface.

The man was still sleeping peacefully. Zero was still paler than Ambrose liked, but the steam was doing wonders for his pallor already. After Ambrose had been sure that it was just slumber and not death, he'd let him rest. Once he had managed to get Zero's body back up to a healthier temperature, he had decided to use this tactic for the rest. While it had not been so terrible when he had done this same thing for Cain, Ambrose was uncomfortable with the thought of having Zero wake up with them in close quarters.

He turned away from the improvised tub, placing the pots back onto the stove top with a sigh.

Why the hell was he working so hard to save the man? Cain would have accused him of being possessed by a witch. There was no argument that Zero deserved to die, given all the lives that he had ruined. Ambrose would have been doing the O.Z. a great service if he had simply left the man to freeze out in the blizzard. So why?

"Because we're the good guys." He heard himself say, voice amused. "Good guys do things that are silly, noble, and naive. Didn't you know that?"

Yes. Of course he knew. "Wait. What?"

His mouth did not provide him a response this time. Ambrose rubbed a set of fingers against his forehead, feeling it wrinkled in a scowl. So now he was talking to himself of his own volition? Once Zero's temperature had risen back to normal, Ambrose intended to take a long nap. His lack of sleep had him at the point of hallucinations.

* * *

Cain's mind kept replaying events in his sleep. He was analyzing everything that had happened, his brain picking it apart moment by moment. Trying to make sense of what had happened in the chaos.

The smell of alcohol from the pirates. The sight of Zero pointing his own gun at him. The noise of pain Ambrose made when DG smacked the baton over his head. The way the headcase felt while unconscious in his arms.

He had seen the concern and mortification in Ambrose's eyes when the three soldiers had joined them. The man had been genuinely angry at their interference. But was it because he wanted to keep them away from DG and Cain, or was it because he thought that they were disrupting his plans? DG's words came back to him in his sleep, the girl's voice trembling with anger and uncertainty. "I thought that he was going to take you out."

Ambrose had been clutching for him when he fell. Was he trying to reach for Cain, or was he trying to stop their escape?

That was what Cain's sleeping mind was trying to puzzle out.

He woke up frustrated, without any new answers. The moon was still high in the sky overhead, cloud cover which had loomed over them for the past few days gone. DG was still sleeping soundly in her bedroll. There would be a few hours still before they had to be on the move again. Sleep was doing no good for him considering the thoughts pestering his skull. Stretching, Cain eased up to his feet to check the fire, which had burned itself out to dull embers. He stirred at it, feeding it a few more sticks to restore its strength.

The air felt heavy, a sure sign to Cain that the clear night was going to give way to a rainy morning once dawn came. He made a note to himself to gather some dry wood to store for their next leg of the trek so they could have another fire later. Cain settled down into a crouch so that he could comfortably prod at the fire. His efforts had it crackling back soon enough, flames licking hungrily at the wood he fed in. He'd need to get some food for them before DG woke up. The girl seemed to have issues whenever Cain decided to skin an animal for them to eat in front of her. Othersider standards were still a mystery to him.

So long as he had something on the spit before DG could figure out what it was, then they'd be fine.

Was Ambrose managing to find things to eat on his own? Cain tried to picture the headcase attempting to hunt something. No way could the flighty man stay quiet or still long enough not to chase off his intended meal. Still, Glitch had managed to keep himself sustained for fifteen annuals. He could fend for himself.

Of course, there was the chance that Ambrose was incapacitated, or worse. They had left him unconscious with a band of pirates nearby. Could they have taken revenge on the man for having mowed through their ranks? Cain smirked faintly, deciding that they probably wouldn't. Ambrose hadn't left their limbs functioning well enough to manage such a complex task.

Unbidden, an image of Glitch entered his mind, after the witch's head alchemist had jabbed poor Glitch with that shock stick. Cain remembered his brief terror when the headcase had not responded to his attempts to rouse him, when Cain had been afraid that perhaps the attack had caused Glitch to forget how to breathe. He had not stayed to wake Glitch up this time. Ambrose's pulse had been steady, his breathing even, which implied that his life was not in danger of being snuffed out. No, the advisor would not have forgotten such a critical detail as inhaling oxygen.

Probably the worst thing for Cain was knowing that they'd left him there with Zero. That was what gave the tin man pause, wrestling with the temptation to return to the palace and find out the condition of their friend. He thought back to when they were interrogating Zero back in the Resistance camp, to get information about the machine Azkadellia was going to use to destroy the world. Zero's eyes had lingered on Glitch there towards the back of the tent, and he had called the headcase by his old name, mocking the one who could not remember. Cain recalled the look on Glitch's face in the moments afterwards, those brown eyes having clung to Zero with half-recognition, half-fear, and something else had passed silently between them which Cain didn't much care for then or now.

Cain feared the worst when it came to Zero. He berated himself for having let the man go. If any further harm came to anyone because of his choice in justice, Cain would never find it in him to forgive the mistake.

He needed a distraction. The tin man pushed up to his feet, wandering away to hunt for some breakfast.

* * *

When Cain got back to the camp, he found that DG was awake, both her and Raw seated in front of the fire eating at bits of meat from the cooked carcass on the spit. It nearly made him drop the pair of rabbits that he'd caught.

DG greeted him with a smile as he stepped towards the warmth of the fire. "Hey Cain! Raw brought us breakfast. Thoughtful of him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." Cain sat himself down on a log opposite the two, setting the rabbits down next to his feet. He intended to stare at Raw until the viewer gave him some kind of explanation as to just where he'd appeared from.

"Raw knew that friends were hungry. Caught large rabbit on way here."

"That doesn't explain how you found us." Cain said doubtfully.

Raw's eyebrows rose, shifting the hair on his face as he chuckled. The tin man wondered what he'd said that was so funny. "Cain should know by now -- Raw feel his way to friends. Raw look for DG and Cain. Follow his way to their hearts." He thumped lightly at his chest to indicate his own.

"What made you decide to come looking for us?" DG asked. "Not that I'm not pleased as punch to see you, but it was kind of a surprise to find you sitting here when I woke up."

The viewer raised his face to the sky. "Raw felt that something was wrong. Felt like his friends were in danger. Kalm was safe at home, so Raw make up his mind to come see what was happening." He paused, then reached under a fold of fur, drawing out a folded piece of fine parchment. "Then, just when Raw was ready to leave, a strange bird came to Raw and gave him this."

Cain took the letter from the seer. "What's it say?"

"Raw know not." The man shook his head. "Raw cannot read this language. Knows, though, that letter come from Glitch at palace."

"A letter from Glitch?" DG shifted around, leaning over as she tried to peer over Cain's shoulder as the tin man unfolded the paper, both of them reading over the meticulous writing:

_'Dear Raw,_

_It is my sincere hope that this letter will arrive to you within the week, if this pigeon is as dependable as they said. I will probably have left the city by the time you receive it. DG and Cain have fled, since DG is scheduled to be married to a trollop of a man from one of our hostile neighbor kingdoms. The prince is quite angry -- I expect that if I can't convince DG to come back by the end of two moon cycles, or find some way to undercut the threat of Bodwingale, then the kingdom will face a costly war._

_I am writing to you because I suspect that they will make some attempt to contact you. If they arrive then please, please, please ask them to kindly wait until I can get there. DG needs to understand the consequences of her leaving in this manner. And Cain needs a sound lecture for catering to the whims of someone as impetuous as DG. Really, for a man of his age, one would think he'd know better! It will take me some time, since I have just been told that I will not be traveling alone, but in the company of men handpicked by the prince. Somehow, I will devise a way to slip away from them._

_The alchemists have informed me that I should not risk travel, but I have given my word to the Queen that I will see this through. I can't let her down. My actions in the past led to the creation of something which nearly destroyed the lands. If I cannot succeed in saving this precious place from another onslaught, I will have no other option than to throw myself off the Gap._

_Hope to see you -- and those two troublemakers -- very soon._

_Regards,_

_Ambrose_

_P.S. The oils on the posies in your reason work wonders for maintaining a healthy, shiny coat of fur. Keep it in mind!_

_P.S.S. Hi Raw! Love, Glitch_

"So he wasn't trying to give us over to the Prince after all." DG said with a frown, leaning back. She dropped her eyes to the top of her hands, shame washing through her. "I feel so terrible. Poor Glitch! I knocked him senseless, too!"

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Cain told her, handing the letter back over to Raw as he stood up, shifting his coat further around him. "Raw, I need you to take DG on ahead to your village."

Both DG and Raw rose with him. "What about you, Cain?"

"I'm going to go back for the headcase." The tin man said firmly.

* * *

"Why did you save me?"

"I don't have a sensible answer to that question."

Ambrose did not look up from his work, even when Zero broke their awkward silence. He continued to sew together two edges of cloth, fashioning out more reliable suits for them to travel through the blizzard in. They had no food here, and hunting in this weather was out of the question. Now that Zero was capable of travel, they needed to get moving.

"You could have just left me out there to die. No one would have been any the wiser."

"That's true on both counts. I very nearly decided against going out to look for you. But my conscience wasn't going to let me get away with doing something like that."

Zero studied the other man who was bent over the cloths in his lap, watching as Ambrose weaved another thread through. He shuddered and drew a fold of the blankets around him further. "I wouldn't expect that of you."

"Why not? Ow!" Ambrose lifted a pricked finger to his mouth, sucking at it absently as he tossed a glance towards Zero, not sure what the former Longcoat could have meant by that.

"The old Ambrose would have let me die, without one lick of guilt on his conscience. He would not have risked himself to come and rescue me." Zero's eyes were scrutinizing him, astonished. "Did the de-brainment actually change you that much?"

"It might have." The man admitted, resuming his stitching. "I had no real memory beyond being Glitch for a very long time. It wasn't as though I were still Ambrose, running around with mere minor memory loss. Glitch was a patchwork mess of everything that hadn't been stolen away from me. Living as him for so long is bound to leave some permanent alterations in personality."

Ambrose pulled the end of thread into a knot, securing it. Then he placed the thread and needle aside, before standing up in front of his chair to unfurl the fabric draped over his lap. He judged the quality of his work while he continued with his words. "In a twisted sort of way, the witch changed me for the better. You, however, got changed for the worse. Here, try this on to see how it fits."

Zero took the suit from him in silence, absorbing the man's words. He frowned as he slid it on over his head, squirming the thickness of it down around his body. It did not even closely resemble the awkward mass which Ambrose had rescued him in earlier.

"That'll do much better." Ambrose said decisively. "The layers will keep out the cold without restricting movement. Sometimes, I impress myself with what I can pull off with a little bit of tweaking and more preparation time."

"Do you think it will hold up?"

"It should. If not, the insulation should at least keep our limbs warm enough for us to get through the storm." The advisor turned back to his chair, picking up the spindle of thread, beginning to wind it back into place on the spool.

"I'm curious as to when you decided that such a 'common' skill as sewing would be useful to learn."

"I had to teach myself how to do a lot of things in those last few weeks." Ambrose said quietly while he worked, eyes misting with memories. "Sewing, cooking, cleaning, laundry. There was no one left to take care of the Queen's needs except for me, once I had dismissed the rest of the royal council and the servants."

"So you stayed behind, while everyone else ran, in order to play serving boy for her?" Zero shook his head, unable to picture the old Ambrose undertaking any such mundane tasks on his own.

"I didn't mind." The advisor chuckled softly. "She needed me. Now those skills are paying off, aren't they? One of these days, I might even take up gardening."

Zero examined the suit, testing the threading with a few firm tugs. "This is excellent. I never would have thought of using the drapes as insulation. Maybe you are as smart as they say after all, Ambrose." When he didn't get a response to his sarcasm, he smirked up towards the other man. Then, slowly, Zero cocked his head to the side. "..Ambrose?"

Ambrose was staring at him in silence. His face had smoothed perfectly blank, glassy eyes pointed back at Zero. The spool of thread slipped through Ambrose's fingers, landing with a dull thump in the carpet as it unrolled. Zero found himself responding with alarm. He took a step towards the man. "Ambrose, are you...?"

The inventor's body sharply lurched, a strange noise sounding in his throat as Zero watched Ambrose's eyes roll upward, eyelids fluttering. Not knowing quite what to do, the former Longcoat remained motionless as the other man tottered backwards to the floor. Ambrose's limbs had begun to thrash seconds after he'd landed, thin figure wracked violently with a sudden fit of convulsions.

Zero went into action. He dropped down to the floor next to the inventor, leaning over where Ambrose flopped, both of his hands pushing down on the man's shoulders to try and pin him down. If Ambrose kept this up, he was going to hurt himself. "Ambrose? Ambrose! Can you hear me?!"

It did not seem like he was getting through. Despite Ambrose's appearance, his slim figure put up a good fight in resisting the pressure of Zero's hands. Finding it ineffective, Zero changed his tactics. He slid up and sat down directly on Ambrose's chest, pushing down with his hands braced on the man's arms, so that his weight could pin him down.

While it did help to control the convulsions, there was still no response from Ambrose. Zero could only wait to see if the man would come out of it, or if this was going to be permanent. He felt his chest tighten with relief when Ambrose's limbs stopped straining up against him, the man underneath him relaxing. As his breath steadied out, Ambrose opened his eyes to blink dazedly up at Zero sitting upon him. "Cain? Oh. Sorry.. Zero. What.. happened?"

"You had a fit of some kind." Zero explained, not bothering to move just yet. There was a chance that Ambrose would slip back into it without a moment's notice. "I was yelling at you, but you didn't seem to hear me."

Ambrose shook his head to clear it. Had that just happened? If so, it was a glitch on a grand scale. He felt sore all over.

"Has that ever happened to you before?" Zero asked, fingers loosening their hold on the man's arms.

"Yes." Ambrose licked his lips to wet them, his throat felt dry. "Back when my brain was first out. I used to have convulsions all the time in the first few months. Just can't remember them much."

"Do I need to keep hold of you, or is it over?"

"Over, I think. I hope. Can't be--" He seized up again with a gasp, and this time Zero threw his weight down more quickly to keep the tremors from getting too violent. How the hell were they going to get across the tundra if Ambrose kept convulsing like this?

* * *

The interior of the palace was silent when Cain stepped into it, shivering heavily as he shook bits of ice and snow off his jacket. He had to find the headcase in this sprawling place. Cain checked at the last spot where he'd seen the advisor, but Ambrose was not laying on the floor by that portrait, which gave the tin man some comfort.

"Hold on, Ambrose. Stay focused!"

Zero's voice! The man was still here. Cain's stomach twisted as he raced forward, bounding up the stairs in the direction of that dreaded sound. He saw the orange glow of firelight pouring out under a door, and thrust it open with a hard push of his arm.

"What the hell are you doing to him?!"

Cain's vision was burning red, seeing Ambrose struggling underneath Zero, the Longcoat pinning that smaller man to the carpet. The tin man reached immediately for his gun, intending to put a bullet into Zero as he should have done to begin with.

Zero's glare towards the tin man wasn't as impressive as he would have liked, considering that he had to shift his attention back to the body beneath him. "Don't get ideas, Cain. He just started doing this all on his own. Something's broken."

The urgency of Zero's voice lured Cain out of his rage. He cocked his gun up into the air, releasing the hammer before the shot could fire. Cain holstered his weapon without looking down to do so, crossing over to them in a few long strides, snow falling off the brim of his hat as the tin man knelt down next to Ambrose. His hand reached out to curl underneath the advisor's head, cradling it up as Cain scowled down at the ashen face. "Ambrose?"

Something responded in Ambrose when Cain spoke his name. Both of them scanned his face for any sign that they were getting through. Yet the convulsions did not subside. Cain tried calling the man's name again, louder this time, before snapping out, "Glitch!"

"What?" Brown eyes snapped to attention up towards Cain's face. Zero nearly fell off in his surprise. Glitch looked from one of them to the other, smiling uncertainly. "Oh, hey Cain. You look cold!"

"Hey there..." Cain found himself whispering breathlessly, blue eyes examining the man's face. "I just came in from the snow. How are you feeling?"

Glitch shrugged, oblivious. "Just fine. My head feels like little spiders with claws are running around inside my skull, spinning in circles, circles, circles, circles--" His eyes traveled over to Zero, before he frowned. "Why is this guy sitting on me, Cain? What did you let me get myself into?!"

"Zero was just trying to help. Ambrose seems to be really sick. Very sick." Cain explained, eyes meeting Zero's briefly. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"Hm. Haven't the foggiest. Can I get up now? This guy's heav--" Glitch's animated voice faltered with a hitch, another sharp jerk whipping through his body. Zero scrambled to maintain his balance.

Cain brought his other hand up in order to clutch at both sides of that shuddering head. He held on until the wave had passed, leaving Ambrose trembling terribly, spasms jerking weakly through him. Then those eyes were opening again, blinking up at him without sight, watery with unshed tears. "C-Cain...?"

"I'm here, Ambrose." He said gently, rolling the balls of his thumbs along the corners of the man's eyes to try and discourage those threatening tears.

"You... came back?"

"Of course." Cain nodded firmly, clearing his throat since it felt tighter than before. "You didn't think that I'd leave you here for good, did you? Gods know that you can't help yourself worth a damn."

Ambrose's gaze focused in increments, reclaiming his composure as his body went back under his control. He glowered up at the tin man. "Preying on the handicapped.. You really are a bastard sometimes." Then it seemed that he became aware that Zero was still there on top of him, murmuring weakly. "Help me up. It's passed for now."

Zero crawled backwards, using the grip on Ambrose's arms to haul the man up to his feet. He steadied the smaller man, as Ambrose leaned against him while recovering. Cain grabbed hold of the advisor, pulling Ambrose over into his care instead. Zero did not fight the action, murmuring. "You should probably get back to Central City and get yourself checked out."

"Just a matter of time." Ambrose mumbled. He drew himself up and away from Cain once he was sure of his footing, dragging both sets of fingers through his hair. "I survived through it before. We should get dressed, gather our supplies, and go."

If the man was determined to take that course of action, Zero wasn't going to stop him. It wasn't his place to look out for Ambrose. Cain would do that now. He was looking out for himself. Zero headed for the door, putting more distance between himself and the lawman. "Fine by me. Thanks for the suit, Ambrose and the... you know."

Ambrose knew that Zero's pride wasn't going to have him admitting much in front of Cain. He smirked faintly. "Of course. Though I'm curious as to where you think you're going."

"I'm leaving." Zero bent down to pick up on of the packs which had been prepared by Ambrose for their trip, fitting the loops of the straps into place on either shoulder.

"Not without us, you're not." Ambrose shook his head, ignoring Cain's shocked eyes. "I did not put the last few days' efforts in just so that you could march back out there into the snow and die. You're not smart enough to survive on your own out there."

"Let him leave, Ambrose." Cain murmured, to encourage Zero to an early death. "We need to get back to DG and prevent a war. There's no time for this."

"I don't want to be around this man any longer than I have to." Zero retorted with a snarl, turning to leave.

Delicate fingers slapped around his forearm, the former Longcoat finding himself twisting oddly, before he found his head slamming down into the carpeted floor for the second time in days. Zero was surprised to discover that Cain's own pain filled face had joined him less than a foot away, both men finding themselves being held in uncomfortable positions by the grip Ambrose had on their arms.

"Boys. Really. Though I understand how difficult it is for you alpha males to be within inches of each other without an explosion of testosterone-induced rage, the fact remains that we must remember what is logical over what is ideal."

"You, Cain," Ambrose said as he looked down at the lawman, "are just going to have to suffer through tolerating Zero's presence a bit longer. Chances are that we will need his military experience in the near future, considering how we are going to be up against Bodwingale's army. Though I can sympathize with whatever doubts you might have on the matter -- this is Zero, after all -- my natural inclination is to use whatever resources are available to achieve my desired goal. Which, in this case, is preventing a war."

"And you, Zero," he said as his eyes shifted over to the other man at his feet, "owe me. Now I don't know exactly what your angle is in life, nor do I intend to trust you, but Cain and I might end up needing help. So I am calling in on your debt, Longcoat. Not to mention the fact.." Zero felt a fresh wave of pain as Ambrose tightened his hold, "that I will have no difficulties putting your head through the floor if you try to betray us while in our company."

The advisor looked from one to the other, before asking pleasantly, "Do I have your word, gentlemen, that you intend to behave yourselves, knowing that you run the risk of getting put back into this position should you resist?"

Zero nodded hurriedly. Cain's stubborn nature had him wait seconds longer, until he was also nodding to Ambrose, grating out. "Yes. Let me up."

"I'm glad that we could come to an understanding." Ambrose was pleased as he watched both men clutch at their sore shoulders. "Let me get suited up, then we can go."

Cain was half-afraid to approach the man after that display. Yet Ambrose still seemed a bit out of it while attempting to slip on a mass of fabric which resembled the suit Zero had on. The tin man took the risk of assisting the advisor with getting himself into his own. He took advantage of the close quarters to whisper to Ambrose, "What are you doing? What's wrong with your brain, that you're helping the likes of him? He's evil, Glitch."

Ambrose popped his head out of the top of the suit, hands pushing it into place so that it felt comfortable on his arms, taking his time before responding to Cain with his own whisper. "We'll need him, so we can't kill him or let him leave. It's the downside of logic. Besides.." those dark eyes were touched by a haze of memory, "I think I might owe him, too."

The man's volume rose once he had finished, pulling up the cowl of the suit over his head. "Satisfy your manly duties, Cain, and carry my pack for me."

"Why should I carry it?" Cain asked dourly.

"It's going to take enough of my focus and energy just to walk through the snow." Ambrose explained, patiently, as if to a child. "You wouldn't want me to unbalance myself any further, would you?"

With a rough sigh, the tin man bent down and slung the other pack up onto his shoulder. He glared daggers at Zero, who returned the look in kind, before taking the lead as they walked from the room on their way out. Something told him that Ambrose had never been 'balanced' to begin with, if the inventor thought that this hairbrained idea was going to work.


	6. Chapter 6

_Where are you going to go from here?" Zero asked of the other teen beside him, not taking his eyes off the headstone that they stood in front of._

_Ambrose fiddled absently with the buttons of his jacket, the entire black affair looking uncomfortable in Zero's opinion. The teen had taken to wearing such attire as of late. He looked intent on buttoning down every square inch of skin that he could. It was no mystery why Ambrose looked like he had never seen a ray of sun in his lifetime, dressing like that. His voice matched his outfit, somber and restrained. "I don't know. Someone said that they might be giving me a position in the palace. The King and Queen have offered to see to my education, and the rest of my upbringing."_

_His face scrunched up in distaste. "They want me to try and be a good influence for the Princess."_

_"Elizabel?" Zero remembered having glimpsed the girl once, from very far away. People said that she had lavender eyes, and could do magic better than any warlock or witch in the O.Z. He nudged Ambrose with his shoulder to try and cheer the other teen up, teasing. "Maybe you two will end up getting married someday."_

_"Gods no." Ambrose clutched protectively at his chest, horrified. "If I were to even look at her twice in any such matter, she would beat me within an inch of my life. Princess Elizabel is the most frightening girl I know. No, I suspect the King and Queen want me to try and provide her an example of how a noble properly behaves."_

_"Makes sense. You're better at it than most adults. Just as stuffy."_

_"Flattery won't sway me. You'll have to try harder than that." Ambrose touched his hand to the top of his grandfather's tombstone, stationed amongst the other deceased members of the Andersen line in the family plot. Despite the fact that his pale face radiated sadness, not once had Zero seen him cry over the death of his last known relative. He wasn't sure if it was polite to ask why._

_"Come on," Zero urged the other teen, sinking his hands into the pockets of his coat as he turned away from the stone. "Let's go into town or something. We can stop by the baker's, get you some of those little biscuits that you like."_

_Ambrose was still distracted, declining an answer though he did fall into step beside the taller teen. His dark eyes glowered at the ground in front of him while they walked. Zero, however, kept a watch ahead of them. It was his responsibility, really. The teen at his side was too distracted half the time to notice when a puddle or a hole was in his path. Of course, there was also the girls to look at that they traveled by on their way down the road. Zero had discovered a fascination with girls sometime over the summer months. "When do you think that you're going to leave?"_

_"Within a few days." Came the reply, Ambrose nearly tripping over a rock. He finally peeled his eyes up to look over at Zero. "The palace is all the way up in the northern part of the O.Z., surrounded by a sea of ice."_

_"Wait, you're going that far away?" Zero scowled. "I thought they would take you to the palace in Central City?"_

_"No. That's only a temporary place that they stay at sometimes. Their real home is on the Northern Island. I will be traveling back there with them when they leave."_

_"That's.. a lot further away."_

_"Several days of travel." Ambrose supplied._

_Zero wet his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue. "So that means it will be really hard for me to visit you, won't it?"_

_"Close to impossible, without capable travelers around to make the trip with you. Even then, it would probably be very dangerous. I will be staying with the royal family for a time at the palace there, before my education at Gillael starts, at which point they will undoubtedly transfer me to live on the University's grounds."_

_"When do you think that you're going to be coming back?"_

_"A few years." Ambrose was taking this all rather calmly, considering that he was going to go away and not come back! Zero expected that the other teen would be as unhappy with the situation as he himself was._

_"Years?!" Zero was astonished. "But ... who am I going to hang around with if you go?"_

_They had reached the bakery by now, delicious smells of things cooking wafting out through the opened windows. Normally, it would have brightened Zero up, but today was proving to be a dark sort of day. Ambrose pulled the door open for the both of them, blinking flatly at Zero as he held the door open for the other teen. "I don't know. Other boys our age? Girls? You're always complaining that I make you feel stupid and ranting about my lack of fun. I'd think the circumstances would be ideal."_

_Could he do that? Zero considered the suggestion as he entered the bakery. He did not like to hang out with other boys his age, especially in the circles of children which his parents would allow. There was always another boy that they were admiring who was bigger, stronger, richer or more educated than Zero. It irritated him! Ambrose didn't pay attention to things like that. While the boy may have had a habit of ignoring Zero from time to time, it was never because his attention was on somebody else. Zero's ego could handle having to compete with the Mysteries of the Scientific Universe that boggled Ambrose's mind and kept him enraptured; that was something far bigger than him, which he would never understand. Zero just couldn't stomach being thought of as any less than anyone else. "I don't really mean it when I say those things, Ambrose. You just don't know when not to take me seriously."_

_He slapped a handful of coppers down on the bakery shelf, letting Ambrose pick out a few of the buttery biscuits that the teen so loved. Zero himself got a sweet pastry, figuring that he deserved a treat of his own. Ambrose spoke around a mouthful of biscuit, "Really? I usually meant it when I called you 'stupid'. Sorry. I thought that was part of the social interaction between boys. Trading insults and the like."_

_"Sort of. I guess." Zero nibbled on his pastry, before shaking his head. "You know what I just realized, Ambrose?"_

_"What's that?"_

_"You are very odd."_

_"Undoubtedly. I am odd, these biscuits are delicious, and the sun will set in four hours. I really need to explain to you about how to identify when things are simply meant to be."_

Zero woke up with the scent of biscuits haunting his senses. Someone was baking somewhere nearby, and judging by the level of the twin suns outside of his window, the man figured that it was probably breakfast.

He sat up in his bed to look around the room. Once they had reached a town outside of the frozen lands, their trio had settled in the first available inn that they could find. It had only been due to Ambrose's insistence that they'd booked the room. Cain had balked at the thought, arguing that they would be fine just sleeping outside again. The lawman relented when he had seen the look in Ambrose's eyes, before the advisor smiled at the elderly innkeeper. "One room, two beds, and an extra bedroll, dear lady."

There was no sign of Cain in the room, aside from the crumpled bed roll on the floor near the door. He and Zero had been at a standstill the previous night, neither one of them wanting to take the bed, both trying to prove that they could handle the floor like a man. They might have continued all evening long, if not for Ambrose's loud declaration that he was taking his own bed, and would they kindly let him sleep, before the advisor threw himself onto the soft surface without even bothering to remove his shoes. Zero decided that it wasn't worth the fight. He let Cain take the floor and settled into his own bed, the tension in the room thick, broken here and there by the sleep sounds that Ambrose made.

Ambrose was still deep asleep, despite the sunlight that was streaming in on his face. At some point during the night, the advisor's shoes had been removed, and the blanket drawn up over him. Zero could guess who might have been responsible.

The former Longcoat rose quickly, stopping by the wash bin to splash some water on his face to rid himself completely from the clutches of sleepiness. He tried to be quiet as he pulled on his coat and gear, cinching the belt tight around his waist, treading with light steps on the creaky wooden floor boards. Zero did not want to be on the receiving end of consequences for waking up the unpredictable advisor.

He congratulated himself on managing to leave the room safely, not rousing the slumbering man. Zero slinked down the hallway outside, on his way downstairs. Other patrons of the inn were already up. Breakfast had been served to some of the guests, which explained the scents he'd caught when waking. A quick scan indicated to him that Cain was nowhere in sight among the tables. It was his opportunity to slip out and away from the pair.

Zero was stepping down the stairs outside when Cain's voice stopped him in his tracks. "Sure is quiet out there today."

He turned to find the lawman sitting comfortably on one of the wooden chairs of the porch. Cain was sipping out of a metal cup, probably coffee if the swirls of steam were any indication. Zero's temper began to flare up as he glared towards the tin man. "Observant of you, Cain. Have you been out here communing with nature for long?"

"Couple hours." Cain said with a shrug. It was clear that he was attempting to make some effort at keeping civil, though Zero could sense that the lawman's own temper was on the verge of slipping. He sipped at his mug, eyes scanning the buildings of the town around them. "Ambrose still asleep?"

"Very." Zero shifted away from the tin man, hands resting on his hips. It was easier to control his temper when he wasn't looking at Cain. "You planning to stop me if I go?"

Cain stared at him for a minute, answering that question by drawing his gun on the Longcoat. One fair eyebrow rose challengingly, as Cain dared the other man to make a break for it.

"Fair enough."

Zero edged back over to the porch, coming to stand on the first step. He leaned against the post which supported the overhang, arms crossing over his chest as he squinted out towards the town around them, trying to look as casual and unbothered as possible with that gun's barrel at him. "How long do you think they're going to follow us?"

"Not sure." Cain said in a tone just as casual, leaning back to slide his gun back into its holster. "They've been following us since mid-morning of yesterday. I think it might be some soldiers that followed Ambrose from Central City."

"Do you think they're going to attack?"

Cain shook his head, taking another long drink from his mug. "Nah. They're just watching for now. Trying to assess us maybe. Or just waiting for an opportune moment."

"Probably the latter." Zero guessed. He went back up on the porch, murmuring. "You'd better go wake up Ambrose. If these guys are after us, then we need to get moving. We might be able to get a jump on them once we're outside of town."

"Guess it's a plan, then." Cain murmured as he rose unhurriedly out of his chair, mug still in hand. "Keep an eye on them. I'll make sure that Ambrose pulls himself together in under five minutes. We'll meet you down here when he's done."

* * *

_Zero's unit marched through the corridors of the palace in Central City, led by the General himself as they went to meet with the Queen. Rumors of officers defecting were running abound through the military, men turning over to the side of Azkadellia the Sorceress, lured away by the promise of victory. The lines of defense between her gathered minions and the last of the O.Z.'s military were growing thinner with each passing day. Zero knew that the Queen was growing desperate. That was the reason that they had been called in today._

_The doors to the throne room were opened for them by a pair of servants, bowing as their ranks went through. Zero's eyes passed over the people gathered within, other members of the military forces, courtiers and nobles. All of the Queen's inner circle were gathered as well. They stood around an enormous table, a map of the O.Z. spread out over its surface, areas already having been marked where their ranks had lost to Azkadellia._

_"Your Highness." General Lonot said, dropping down to a knee in front of the monarch on the throne. Zero and the others mimicked him, heads bowing to the Queen._

_"General Lonot." The Queen responded, one hand lifting gracefully to signal him and his men to rise. "Report."_

_"Dire news, Majesty. My men report that Azkadellia's armies have pushed our front line back to the borders of the marshlands. I have ordered them to begin retreating to safer ground. They will regroup on the borders of the southern forest to quell the next wave of attack."_

_"Why order them to retreat, General?" Zero looked up as the other voice spoke, eyes lighting on the man dressed so formally who had left the map to stand beside the Queen. The man's dark eyes were fixed on the general, delicate face tinged with arrogance. "It would make more sense for your men to use the marshlands to their advantage. Were they to reposition on this side of the marshes, then it would be simple for them to attack Azkadellia's forces at range when the units tried to march across."_

_"Advisor." General Lonot's face darkened. He did seem to like it much that the man was questioning his decisions in front of so many. "There would not be enough men positioned at the marshes to fend off the other army. If they head to the forest, then they will be able to join the other ranks of our forces which are positioned there."_

_The advisor frowned. "Direct the units at the forest to join those at the marshes. It shouldn't be difficult to coordinate them to--"_

_"By the time the other units were to arrive, then those at the marshes would already be overtaken." General Lonot snapped, speaking over top of the other man._

_Zero saw the advisor's lips thin together. He looked surprised that the general had responded in that way. With a quick recovery, the man spoke again, his words more clipped now. "General Lonot. How much damage do you predict could potentially be inflicted by those units already positioned at the marshes?"_

_The general blinked. "What? Well.. They might be able to take down at least twenty percent of the forces while the marshes were being crossed, with the amount of ammunition that they have. But I don't see how--"_

_"So what you're saying," the advisor interrupted him this time, and Zero knew it was quite deliberate, "is that the men who are already there could whittle down the forces of our enemies without having to regroup with any other units?"_

_"Yes, Advisor Ambrose." Lonot said tensely, jaw clenching. Zero's attention shifted away from the fuming general at the mention of that name, his eyes focusing more directly on the advisor. This was...? The general continued. "But if the men remain there without rejoining the others, then they will probably get wiped out when Azkadellia's forces finally reach them."_

_Zero kept his eyes on the man in front of him, watching as pale hands folded together at the base of the advisor's back. The chestnut hair might have been forgettable, styled as it was, but there really was no mistaking the large brown eyes and that too pale face. It was Ambrose._

_The man seemed oblivious to Zero's stare, looking away from the general to the map on the table. Ambrose's lips thinned together, as he said flatly, "At this point, we can afford to sacrifice men more than we can afford to sacrifice land. Too much has been lost already, with the units pausing to 'regroup' so much. If your men cannot push our enemies back, then they should at least try to hold them off." His thin smile lacked any warmth. "After all, it is no less to expect of our men that they would give their life for this kingdom. That is what they volunteered for. We must now think with practical minds, to keep what we still have."_

_Zero's mouth went slack at the man's statements. How could he dismiss the lives of the soldiers so easily? Even though Ambrose had spoken so low of the military in the past, his blatant statements bordered on downright hatred. Generel Lonot's face had turned red with anger. Zero expected an argument to break out right there in the chamber._

_Fortunately, the Queen intervened. She gently admonished her advisor. "Ambrose. While it pleases me that you share my feelings that keeping ourselves from being driven back is priority, you must always remember that what these men are sacrificing is important." Her lavender eyes moved to General Lonot, the smile she gave him lacking strength. "You must forgive Ambrose, General Lonot. He often does not look beyond logic, and for that he seems practical to the point of cruelty sometimes."_

_Ambrose's face flushed. It was the first sign of real human feeling which Zero witnessed in the man. His lips moved uncertainly, before he bowed swiftly to the Queen. "My humblest apologies, Your Highness. It was not my intention to offend." Brown eyes flickered over to the general, as he added belatedly, "Forgive me, General Lonot. I am sure that you know what is best for your men. We will leave you to your own devices. You are excused, gentlemen."_

_General Lonot's bow was stiff. He marched swiftly from the room without even bothering to give orders to the soldiers behind him. The men began to follow, hurrying to catch up._

_Ambrose had stepped down from the throne, returning to the table nearby. Zero took the opportunity, before he chased after the others, to approach the advisor. He placed a hand on Ambrose's arm to catch his attention. "Ambrose?"_

_Brown eyes turned his way, an eyebrow raising haughtily as Ambrose raked his eyes over Zero, taking in the state of his attire and rank. "I'm sorry? Did you just address me so informally?"_

_Zero frowned. "It's me, Zero. Remember? We grew up together?"_

_Ambrose studied him in silence, eyes sweeping over his face. Then the man turned back to the map in front of him, saying dryly, "I'm afraid that I don't remember the name. Nor do I have time to listen to you reminisce about any past you think we have. You are dismissed, soldier."_

_"But.."_

_Zero's protest had the advisor thumping a fist down on the table, looking around at the others there with irritation. "I don't have time for this. Would one of you kindly point him in the direction of his unit?"_

_A hand reached for him, and Zero shrugged it off. He glared at Ambrose's back. The other man acted as if Zero wasn't even in the room. "I know my way out just fine."_

_With a sharp turn, the soldier stalked out of the throne room without another backwards glance._

* * *

Cain plucked at folds upon folds of blankets, trying to unravel the cocoon that he knew held Ambrose inside. He tried to locate some piece of the man, jostling the advisor negligently to get him awake. "Ambrose? Wake up. We need to get going."

The cocoon groaned muffledly, a hand appearing out from within to wave him away. It was going to be one of those stubborn sort of mornings, Cain could tell. He sighed as he gripped both hands into the folds of fabric, the muscles in his arms bunching up, before the tin man yanked hard at the blankets.

It resulted in a yelp, and a dull thud on the floor, as Cain was left holding the unraveled blanket up over his head, looking down at Ambrose where the man lay sprawled at his feet. "Up and at 'em, sunshine. Daylight's burning."

Ambrose blinked an eye blearily up at him, hair tossed wildly from his ride off the bed. He squinted up at Cain, mumbling. "I hate you, Wyatt Cain. You were overdue for a reminder."

Cain tossed the blanket over onto the bed before reaching down to offer the fallen man a hand to help him get up. He would probably get punched if he laughed now. "Nonsense. You love me and you know it."

The man on the floor paused in the act of grabbing his hand, silent. Ambrose then rolled himself over and slapped the top of Cain's offered appendage. "Shut up. I'd rather cozy up to a mobat; they're trainable."

Chuckling, Cain gripped Ambrose by the arm and hauled him up. "You can't teach an old tin man new tricks, Glitch."

"Maybe not. But you are learning. I just have to keep at it -- the key is persistence!"

"Persist at what?"

Ambrose smiled slyly, shaking a finger up to the other man. "Oh ho, ho. Figure that one out for yourself and I'll reward you handsomely."

"You know something, Glitch?"

"What's that, Cain?"

"You're pretty odd."

"That's a mean thing to -- well. I suppose that isn't the first time I heard that. They were probably right. Can I get some biscuits from the cook before we go?"

"No." Cain shook his head as he released the other man. "Zero is waiting downstairs for us. We're getting followed, probably by those soldiers who came with you. I need you to hurry up and get ready so that we can get a move on."

Ambrose grumbled something about compasses which Cain could not quite catch, the advisor ruffling up his messy hair as he moved around the room to get his things together, a full-fledged pout on the horizon. "...Just one biscuit, Cain? One for the road?"

"No. Now move it."

"Please?"

"I said 'no'."

"Pleeeeaaaase?"

Sigh. "...Just be quick about it."

* * *

_"What are we supposed to do with him now?" One of the guards asked, lips twisted in distaste as he peered in through the cell bars to view the prisoner._

_"Nothing." The other replied. "I got orders personal from the general's leuitenant. Zero is going to take care of it. This guy apparently was some kind of diplomat or something."_

_"Wonder why they carved him up?"_

_"Dunno. The Sorceress can do whatever she wants to anyone, no matter how powerful they think they are."_

_They were entrenched in this conversation when Zero arrived, rounding the corner of the dungeon corridor to where they'd been posted. While it had been a necessary precaution to keep the prisoner from escaping before, Zero doubted that it was needed now. He jerked his chin curtly to the guards by way of greeting, before gesturing swiftly. "Open it up. I'm relieving you gentlemen of your duties. The prisoner is to be escorted out and disposed of."_

_The guard on the left grunted, eyes swinging in the direction of the cell. "Guy must have angered the Sorceress pretty good. All right, he's all yours."_

_Metal screeched as the bars to the cell opened up, the gears due for some oiling very soon. Zero followed their progress up before stepping forward, a hand rising to grip the metal overhead as he leaned casually there in the open gap. He then let his eyes take a slow pass over the prisoner inside, face blank._

_There was little response from the one inside, despite the loud scream of the metal. He sat stiffly on the edge of his cot, eyes fixed on the opposite wall, flickering lightly back and forth. Tufts of hair stuck out awkwardly where the alchemists had shaved most of it away, apparently not caring if it looked stylish or not. Zero was surprised that they'd even bothered to get him dressed back up in his finery._

_"Advisor?"_

_The prisoner remained mute, not responding to his voice. The man's head cocked slightly, lips moving silently as if speaking to himself, the lights from outside of the cell reflecting off the large zipper lining the top of his head from front to back. Zero grimaced slightly at the condition of the skin against it, ugly red from the surgery. Dropping his arm down, the Longcoat moved further into the cell._

_"Advisor, are you awake?"_

_Nothing. Those wide brown eyes did not even see him. They remained locked on the wall. It wasn't anything less than he'd expected._

_Zero took hold of the prisoner's closest arm, shackles clanking as the man rose without putting up any sort of fight. He was glad that the legs still worked, though they moved with stuttered strides as Zero pulled the other man along with him. The guards saluted him, before turning to go report for further orders now that their charge had been taken from them._

_"Can you even hear me?" He asked as they walked past some of the other cells, more and more of them being filled with prisoners. Zero ignored their pleas. They weren't his problem._

_None of his questions got through to the other man. Zero decided that there must have been nothing left inside that shell. That was going to make it easier to lead it to death. The Longcoat brought his prisoner outside without incident, considering the catatonic state of his companion._

_Where to do it?_

_Zero looked around at the lands surrounding the Dark Tower. Longcoats were practicing formations across the barren strip of land around the base of the structure. He wanted to make this more private, as he'd been instructed, so he dragged the silent man into the forest nearby. Zero pulled him along until the brush had grown thicker behind them, where no prying eyes might have witnessed the execution._

_When the zipperhead beside him tripped forward over a log and fell flat on his face, Zero decided that they had gone far enough. He looked down at the fallen man without pity, unlatching his gun from where it rested at his hip. "Anything to say, Ambrose? No big words to spout out? No witty insults or scathing remarks?"_

_The man on the floor stayed on his knees, pushing up to all fours. Long fingers were splayed in the dirt beneath him, the bottom of his pale orange jacket dragging in the mud below. Zero watched him slowly sit up, slouched there on his knees. Muddied hands were brought up into the air, dark eyes blinking at the dirty palms as if seeing them for the first time._

_Ambrose laughed faintly at whatever image he found smeared upon them._

_Zero's jaw clenched with the sound, cocking back the hammer of his gun. He raised the barrel up towards that zippered head, narrowing his eyes as his finger squeezed the trigger._

_The shot echoed loudly through the forest._

_Ambrose perked up as the sound faded and raised one of his palms higher up into the air, as if checking for raindrops, oblivious to the curl of steam rising out of the bullet hole in the log behind him._

_Zero lowered the gun back to his side, staring down at the other. He then knelt, unlocking the shackles from around the man's wrists. They were tucked into the pocket of his leather coat when Zero stood. _

_"Now get out of here. Run."_

_Brown eyes had fastened on his face when he had knelt down to remove Ambrose's cuffs. They had risen when he did, studying his face without recognition, only childlike curiosity._

_"Run." Zero repeated, as he roughly pulled the man up off his knees, the other swaying before finding his balance._

_When the order was not effective the second time, Zero raised his gun again and fired a shot into the air. That made the other gasp, those wide eyes touched with terror as Ambrose backed away from him before breaking into a clumsy run in the opposite direction of Zero and the tower._

_"You're lucky, Ambrose, that I remembered how to be nice." Zero murmured as he watched that figure disappearing into the depths of the forest. He lingered for another few minutes to make sure that Ambrose did not come back, before walking out of the forest on his way to the tower to report to the general._

_He found General Lonot standing with a few others, and saluted him smartly. "I have carried out my orders as directed, Sir. The little matter of trash detail that the Sorceress wanted has been completed."_

_The general nodded, smug. "And did you dispose of the trash like I asked you to, Zero?"_

_"Yes, Sir." Zero said with a firm nod, returning his own smirk. "The trash has been effectively erased."_

* * *

Ambrose seemed to make it a point to trip over every log that he could. Zero admired how well the advisor could string together such imaginative curses whenever he picked himself back up off the ground. Even Cain cleared his throat at one point, surprised by what came out of Ambrose's mouth.

"The forest is out to get me today. I sense that the foliage has a personal vendetta. I'm normally much less clumsy than this." Ambrose pointed out to them, trying to keep up with the pace set by the other men.

They had left the inn as quickly as they could, once Ambrose had stuffed some biscuits into the pockets of his jacket. Cain had taken the lead for them, as they headed towards the north, in the direction of Raw's village. He glanced back to the advisor over his shoulder, just in time to see Ambrose stumble over another log.

"It is pretty bad. Worse than usual."

"I know!" Ambrose agreed at a whine, brushing off the knees of his pants to remove bits of dirt and grass. "Isn't it horrible?"

"Maybe your sense of rhythm is off." Cain teased as he resumed moving forward, eyes trained on the forest around them.

"What does 'rhythm' have to do with anything?" Zero drawled, doubtful.

"Everything." Ambrose answered, clutching onto the man's coat sleeve to steady himself, panting lightly. "Rhythm is the Core of All. Anyone want a biscuit?"

"No." Zero and Cain said in unison. Then they glared at each other.

"Fine by me." The advisor said with a shrug, digging into his pocket. He drew out one of the little wrapped pastries, fingers delicately plucking the paper open. "That just means that I get more all to myself. Mm."

He tore off a piece, stuffing it and the tips of his fingers into his mouth. Ambrose was in pure bliss, a delighted sigh spilling out of him. He then blinked back down at the biscuit in his hand as it abruptly exploded where he pinched it in his fingertips. "Um.."

"Get down!" Zero shouted. He reached for Ambrose without thinking, barreling the smaller man over with him as he dove for the cover of the foliage, hearing the whizz of a bullet go racing by where they'd been standing. "Cain?!"

"I see them." The tin man said, already having crouched down into a defensive stance behind the cover of a tree trunk. He leaned his face forward slightly, flinching back as a bullet bit into the bark right in front of it. "They're firing in turns, waiting to take us down if we pop up into sight to return fire."

Ambrose clutched tightly at the top of his head, curling up into a ball to protect his vitals from harm. Zero saw his eyes scanning the sky overhead where he lay next to the Longcoat, terrified. He gasped out, "They tried to shoot me. Me! They tried to murder the Queen's royal advisor." Ambrose swiveled his eyes to Zero's. "I don't think the Prince intended for me to survive the trip."

"You think?" Zero snorted, before rolling over onto his stomach. "I am going to try sneaking over there, to take them out from behind. You stay here. Try not to get shot."

"Good plan." Ambrose breathed.

Zero kept himself pressed to the ground, sliding along on his stomach as he used the cover of the overgrowth to mask him from the sight of the soldiers shooting at them. He heard Cain's own gun return fire, the cry of pain from somewhere in the distance indicating that the tin man had either wounded or killed one of the three already. Zero peeked up, then dropped his head back down.

The remaining two soldiers were close. He had caught a glimpse of them in those few seconds. But the foliage thinned out between him and them, so they would see him if Zero got any closer. He needed something to distract their attention so that he could make the last forward surge and close the distance.

Ambrose searched the area ahead of him through a hole in the log that he was hiding behind. He saw that Zero had gotten himself stuck. Cain was unable to get another shot off, since they were firing in steady reports in the tin man's direction. The barrel of his gun rested against the brim of his hat, Cain counting the rounds until they would have to pause to reload.

A crazy idea struck Ambrose. He heard the sounds of the soldiers reloading their weapons, Cain taking that opportunity to stretch his arm around the tree, blindly returning fire in their direction. It was at that moment that Ambrose's body took on a mind of its own, as he found himself standing up from behind the log. The soldiers must have wondered what had possessed him themselves, since they hesitated before resuming their fire. This time directed solely at Ambrose.

With a gasp, the advisor threw himself back down to the ground, bullets biting into the log. He rolled to the side, over and over, while bullets ripped into the dirt behind him. Ambrose did not stop until he was behind his own tree, curling up immediately. His heart was pounding double time in his throat.

That had been enough for Zero to make his move, though. The Longcoat lurched forward, barreling into the closest soldier. His hand reached immediately for the man's wrist, wrestling that gun in the direction of the other, a bullet exploding from the barrel to rip through his comrade. Zero grunted as he was kicked sharply in the groin, losing his control of the weapon.

The soldier angled the gun up towards Zero to shoot him, but the barrel of another gun was already fitting itself intimately to the soldier's temple. Cain's voice was like steel. "I wouldn't try it."

Seeing that he'd been beaten, the soldier dropped the gun to his side, raising his hands in the air to show his surrender. Zero picked the fallen weapon up, holding it beside him as he stood up on the other side of the soldier. He also pointed the barrel towards the man, snapping harshly. "If you don't want to be a smear like your friends, then you'd better start speaking things that I'll like hearing."

"It was the Prince's orders." The soldier said shakily, looking at either gun trained at his face. "We were supposed to escort Advisor Ambrose until locating the Princess and Mister Cain, at which point we had been instructed to eliminate the advisor and the lawman. The Princess was supposed to be taken to Bodwingale as a hostage for negotiation with the other kingdoms."

"That bastard." Ambrose said quietly in shock. He had come to stand closer to where Cain stood, listening to the soldier speak. "I had anticipated some kind of double cross like this, but I did not think he'd take it so far. So, the Prince does not wish to marry DG for a treaty after all. They intend to take over the O.Z. regardless, and use DG to drag the other kingdoms into submitting to them."

"Yes." The soldier nodded.

"Well.." Ambrose's forehead knotted up. He then reached over and snatched Cain's gun out of his hand, spinning it smoothly. The advisor then slammed the barrel down on the crown of the soldier's head, watching the man collapse in an unconcious heap. "That settles things."

Cain took his gun back from the other man with a frown, sliding it into his holster. "They had this planned out all along. Forget about getting DG back to Central City. We need to go to Bodwingale and stop them at the source."

"For once, Cain," Ambrose said darkly, "you have an idea that I can't argue with." He searched over the bodies of the soldiers, removing a metal compass from one of their utility belts, his fingers brushing over the top of it as if it were soiled. "Let's go find DG and tell her the plan. Um.. Whenever I come up with it."

* * *

Cain lowered the hoof of the pale mare back to the ground, shaking his head. "Those soldiers rode this one too hard. I doubt that she'll make it very far. If we're going to get there fast, then we're going to have to leave this one behind."

The lawman straightened up, brushing his palms together as he looked to the other two. "That means that two of us are going to have to ride together." He deliberately stared at Ambrose where the other man was gently patting the injured mare, waiting for him to reply.

"You two pair up. I'll take my own." Zero offered. The two of them on one horse would make it hard for them to catch up if he decided to race off.

"No." Ambrose dropped his hand to his side, with a frown to the former Longcoat. "If we did that, then you will probably make a break for it, and I am not letting you off the hook yet."

He looked from Cain to Zero, then back. "I'll ride with Zero. You can pack our supplies on yours, Cain. He's not going to run away with me on board."

Cain opened his mouth, intent on arguing, but couldn't find the right words to use. So he picked up their packs instead, working to secure them as Zero reluctantly gripped hold of the reins of the other. The tin man tried not to get riled up, though he really did hate the idea for some unknown reason. He did keep an eye trained over his work from time to time, to guarantee that Zero wasn't going to handle Ambrose in any way that Cain did not approve.

Ambrose was oblivious to the lawman's watch, smiling into the eyes of the horse which had been drafted to carry him and Zero. "So lovely. You're a good horse, aren't you?" His smile stretched as the beast snorted out a puff of air in response, before Ambrose moved to grip the saddle to pull himself up. It was not as graceful as he would have liked. His limbs were still giving him some trouble, as they had been along their walk.

Zero kept hold of the reins to keep the horse steady, turning his head away as he found Ambrose's rear wiggling in front of his face. With a shade of annoyance, the former Longcoat pushed the heel of his hand against the seat of Ambrose's pants and shoved him upright. That gave the advisor enough momentum to get up the rest of the way, a surprised noise slipping out of Ambrose before he found himself seated in the saddle. "Thanks. It looked shorter from the ground, you know?"

Cain yanked the leather ties hard as he finished locking down the last pack, hearing it creak threateningly from the force he exerted. The tin man then swung himself up into his saddle in one effortless move, wrapping the reins of the horse loosely around his left hand. It was something he did out of habit, his right hand remaining free to rest on his thigh, where Cain could quickly draw his gun. His mouth was locked in a frown as he watched Zero climb up behind Ambrose, the advisor gripping hold of the saddle's horn to keep out of the way of Zero's hands when the former Longcoat took control of the reins.

"After you, Cain." Zero murmured, his horse taking a few steps back and forth under his control.

Ambrose's eyes drifted over to the tin man, giving him a tiny smile. The lawman nodded, that frown threatening to become a permanent fixture, before Cain nudged at his own horse, and they took off at a quick run across the wilderness.

* * *

"You're riding with me for the next leg of the trip." Cain said firmly.

"Why's that?" Ambrose asked him while scrubbing at his face with water from the stream where they had stopped to give the horses a rest. The man shook droplets of moisture off his fingers as he sat back up from where he'd bent over the water, blinking up at Cain. "We're making good enough time."

They sat a small ways off from where Zero was lounging by the stream, Cain easing down into a crouch beside the kneeling advisor after firing a glance in the direction of his rival. "I don't want to wear the horses out." He lied. "If we keep it in turns, then they'll keep their strength longer."

When they had stopped at the water's edge earlier, the tin man had noticed how uncomfortable the two looked. Ambrose's face had been pink, and he brushed at the mane of his horse in an effort to keep from looking anywhere else. Zero, also, had seemed a bit flustered. Cain hated how long it had taken before the former Longcoat had dismounted. Too long.

Ambrose was scrutinizing him intently, eyebrows creeping slowly up on his forehead. "I guess.." The advisor said doubtfully, easing up from the edge of the stream. He turned in Zero's direction, addressing the other man. "Zero, we're swapping horses. Cain's having me ride with him this turn."

"Of course he is." Zero sneered as he pushed up to his feet. He went for his horse, hopping nimbly up into the saddle. Ambrose tried to figure out what the Longcoat was so amused about. He peeked towards Cain to see if the tin man had a better idea of Zero's behavior.

No help there. Cain was already standing near his horse, looking expectantly at Ambrose. The advisor wiped the rest of the water off his face with the sleeves of his jacket and stepped over to the lawman. Already predicting the difficulty that Ambrose was going to have getting up on the horse, Cain stooped to boost the smaller man up into the saddle. It was an easier process that way.

He swung up into the saddle behind Ambrose, trying to get settled comfortably while they fit together. His arms circled around either side of that slim figure as Cain got a good grip on the reins, fingers brushing against the edges of Ambrose's hands where the advisor had taken ahold of the saddle's horn. A wet curl of brown brushed across his face when Ambrose looked over to Zero, Cain's face stretching back away from it before he spurred his horse into action.

They were on their way again, and this time Cain felt much better about the trip.

* * *

Ambrose had fallen asleep shortly after the twin suns had set. Considering the questionable status of the man's brain, Cain figured that sleep was probably best for the headcase. It didn't really interfere with their progress, since Ambrose had been very careful not to get his hands tangled up in the reins. Even in sleep now, the advisor's hands rested loosely in his lap, fingers twitching in response to whatever dreams or memories played through his head.

Cain had tightened the circle of his arms around that slim body to keep Ambrose from falling off, the advisor's head occasionally lolling forward as he slouched in the saddle. The law man slid further back, so that Ambrose's weight could rest against his chest, keeping him in a more secure hold.

Without his friend to talk to, Cain was silent, having little to say to Zero who rode beside them. The law man kept his focus on the wilderness ahead, though there were little details here and there which distracted him on occasion. Like how warm Ambrose was, and how light he felt against Cain's chest. The brown hair that curled under his nose smelled like rainwater and earth, probably from not getting the luxury of washing it since they'd started their journeys.

He squirmed absently, startled when Zero brought his horse up alongside theirs, the former Longcoat drawling, "Having problems keeping your focus, Cain?"

"What makes you say that?" Cain asked him mildly, an undertone of warning in his tone.

"Because I'm not an idiot." The other said with a smirk. "Apparently, though, you might be, if you haven't caught on yet."

Cain scowled. He wasn't feeling up to any mind games that Zero wanted to play. "What in nine hells are you babbling about, Zero?"

The Longcoat snickered faintly. "You're treating him like a wife, and he's letting you. Thick as an iron suit there, tin man, aren't we?" Cain wanted to snap at him. Zero had no right to even speak anything about his wife! And remarking about the iron suit was a sucker punch. But the Longcoat had dug his heels into his horse, and galloped a ways ahead of them on the trail.

He was too much a man of honor to shoot Zero in the back, tempting as it might have been. Cain snorted to himself. What the hell had the Longcoat meant by that nonsense? Treating Ambrose like a wife? "Ridiculous..."

Ambrose's voice was thick with sleep as he murmured, tiredly, "I dunno.. He does kind of have a point there."

"Glitch? You're awake?" Cain asked, feeling his face starting to heat.

There was no response. Ambrose was still breathing evenly in slumber. He'd simply been mumbling in his sleep. Cain relaxed a bit. If Ambrose had been awake to hear what Zero said, then Cain wouldn't have known what to say to the man in his arms to recover. He cleared his throat softly, squeezing the slim figure in front of him before looking back ahead to the trail.

Unseen by the tin man, the advisor's eyes cracked open to look down at the man's hands for a few seconds. Then they shut once again, as Ambrose fell back to sleep with a smile.

* * *

The people of Raw's village greeted them warmly when they arrived, creatures of various sizes coming out of the wooden huts when their horses reached the clearing. Trees thickly lined the perimeter around their home, the slope of cliffs stretching up to the sky protecting their backs, even as it cast the huts in shadow. Kalm and some of the other young viewers had met them further out, and were running excitedly along beside the horses as Cain steered them towards the center of the homes.

DG and Raw came out of one of the huts, the girl's face turning radiant with a smile. She waved brightly, hurrying over as Ambrose nearly fell off the horse in his effort to get down and reach his friends. DG snatched the advisor up in a fierce hug, which was returned with equal fervor. "Glitch, you're okay! How's your noggin'?"

"Improving." Ambrose answered, reaching up to rap his knuckles against the top of his head. "Just fractured, not completely broken."

DG nodded, before hugging him again. "Sorry about hitting you over the head like that. And sorry that I said those mean things. I thought.. you know."

"You hit me on the head?" Ambrose asked, blinking.

Cain appeared beside them then, the lawman's arm unfurling to accept the embrace from DG that was quick to come. He squeezed her close a few seconds, before turning to accept the hand that Raw extended in greeting. "Thanks for taking care of her, Raw."

Raw smiled happily, gesturing around him. "All people of Raw's village happy to have DG here. DG has been very helpful. Gardens are strong, crops will grow well."

"I learned how to fire a bow and arrow." DG said brightly, pantomiming the motions of taking aim with one of the weapons.

Ambrose looked up from where he was brushing off the front of his jacket. "What? You shouldn't be learning things like that. It's unbecoming for a Princess!"

"So're jeans, Glitch." DG drawled. "So are jeans."

The man's dark eyes flickered down to the trousers she indicated, and he nodded. "True enough."

Raw's eyes traveled past the trio, touching on the stranger of the group. Many of the other seers were viewing Zero warily. DG caught wind of it soon enough, looking over Ambrose's shoulder to where the former Longcoat was standing. Her eyes widened considerably. "What's the psychopath doing here? You guys didn't ditch him back at the palace?"

"It's Ambrose's doing, so don't look at me." Cain said, spreading his hands out innocently to avoid any of the blame.

Ambrose took hold of DG's arm. "Ah... It's a long story, DG."

"Dinner is almost ready." Raw said helpfully. "You can tell DG story while eating. Come into Raw's home." He beckoned them all with him, turning back to the opened door of the hut.

Zero hesitated back with the horses, eyes moving slowly over the crowd of seers littered around him. Then he saw that Ambrose was waving him over with a few hurried sweeps of his arm, and the Longcoat decided that hanging out here just to be stared at wasn't something he was too enthused about. So he pushed himself forward, sauntering after the quartet of heros, ignoring the weight of the eyes which pressed against his back.

* * *

_Ambrose stared flatly at the table in front of him, watching the pile of papers on its surface burn. The last schematic had been destroyed, all evidence of his work successfully erased. It had been the hardest thing that he had ever done, burning a lifetime of work in order to keep his good intentions from falling victim to the forces of evil. He knew that it was necessary._

_"I suppose you think that's somehow going to stop her from getting what she wants?" The voice drawled behind him, causing Ambrose to pivot sharply around._

_"Zero..."_

_"Funny how you remember me now, advisor, when your memory wasn't clear the last time we met." The Longcoat leaned lazily in the open door of his laboratory, his manner casual as if there weren't a war taking place just outside._

_Ambrose frowned at the intruder, fingers twitching nervously at his sides, the burning fire behind him dancing shadows over the Longcoat's figure. "You have no permission to be in here. My authority is not gone yet."_

_"Oh, it's gone." Said the man, smirking as he pushed himself away from the doorframe. Zero sauntered directly towards Ambrose, the advisor's eyes searching hurriedly around for an escape route in case the worst happened. The Longcoat was between him and the only door out. Drawing himself up, Ambrose did his best not to look afraid, chin raising proudly._

_Shaking his head, the Longcoat chuckled softly. "Look at you, defiant to the end, and so very proudful. Putting on a show of arrogance isn't going to help you get out of this one."_

_"I don't know what you're talking about." Ambrose shook his head in denial._

_"The Sorceress has put an order out for your capture." The other man explained with a light shrug, his eyes rich with amusement. "She's picking off the members of the royal council one by one -- those who weren't smart enough to run, anyway. Why am I not surprised that you're one of the few still stubborn enough to stay here?"_

_Ambrose scowled. "I am not going to abandon the Queen. I will stay with her until the end."_

_Zero tsked softly, bracing his hands on his hips. "She can't help you. Rumor has it that she's lost all her power. Must be why it's been so easy for Azkadellia to take over. No one is strong enough to stand up to her. No one's left that can help you, Ambrose, except..."_

_"Except...?" The advisor blinked uncertainly up at the Longcoat._

_"Except for me. I can help you."_

_Ambrose flinched as he found a gloved hand up near his face, Zero rolling the ball of his thumb against a pale cheek as he peered down at the advisor, watching the play of uncertainty dance across that delicate face. "I can help you escape, Ambrose. You could come with me, now, before the rest of the units arrive. It wouldn't be hard for me to get it arranged."_

_"Why would you do something like that? Aren't you on the Sorceress' side now?"_

_"I'm on my own side." Zero answered, index finger tracing over towards Ambrose's mouth, his eyes watching its progress. "I would help you, Ambrose, if you asked me to. Because we were friends once. All you have to do is ask. Nicely.."_

_"What's 'nicely'?" The advisor asked flatly, having an idea of where this was going, considering the expression on Zero's face._

_Ambrose went still as stone as the Longcoat's face bent down to join their mouths together. He was unfamiliar with being kissed, and having this happen with Zero froze him with shock. It was a rough sort of kiss, Zero's lips hard against him, nothing at all what Ambrose figured kisses were supposed to be. Despite the fact that it hurt, he was rather mortified to find that his entire body was growing hot with it, not having anticipated that he might respond._

_Zero slid back, eyes coasting over Ambrose's face, feeling the advisor tremble where he had a hold of the smaller man's shoulder. He slyly smirked into that dazed gaze. "If you could be nice like that for me, then maybe I'd help you.."_

_The dark haired man was looking up at him in that way he remembered, that briefly detached expression as Ambrose turned inwards towards his mind, trying to decide exactly how he should answer before responding. Then, he quietly said, "I guess this would explain why it is that your previous marriage had been so unsuccessful. You might inform your potential wives that you hold inclinations opposite of their gender before courting them, Zero.."_

_He anticipated that it would get him hit, saying something so rude, making such an implication about Zero's preferences. Ambrose felt his muscles coiling in preparation to receive a blow. While intimacy was a foreign subject, the advisor could understand the inclinations of simple men towards violence, despite being adamantly against the idea of he himself behaving in such a base manner. Zero's fingers tightened on his shoulder, and Ambrose knew it was time._

_Zero abruptly began to laugh. His hand drew the advisor closer, while brown eyes went from flinching to surprised once again. He was glad that he could catch the crafty genius offguard. "You're my exception, Ambrose. Just you. But we have a history together, the two of us. You probably just don't remember, what with your memory being so patchy and all these days."_

_Ambrose's features darkened, trying to find meaning in those words and what they insinuated. He had so much information to sort through, pushing past the catalogues of relevent information to where the memories were stuffed, way in the back, coated in dust. Oh. Ohhh._

_By the sudden flush of pink on Ambrose's face, Zero knew that the other had caught on. He pounced down on that mouth again, the tops of his teeth worrying at the skin with a skilled grasp of intimacy, before he murmured quietly, "Just come with me. I used to be the only person that you let exist in your little world, Ambrose. You used to see only me with those eyes. Just be that way again and everything will turn out all right for you."_

_Zero's hands had fit against the small of his back, clutching him, and Ambrose could not make his body fight the action. He was too paralyzed, finding his normally sharp mind abandoning him for the moment, since his body seemed to want to be in control. Zero was kissing him again, warm against him through the leather coat, and when the man's hand drifted up to slide through his hair, Ambrose felt his scalp tingling pleasantly with the sensation. His body yearned for what his mind protested, prepared to give in._

_Hearing Ambrose groan faintly against his mouth, Zero smirked at his victory. He felt the icy composure of the advisor melting away as the body in his grasp began to yield. Ambrose would be just for him again, as it had been in the past, when Zero had been the only star twinkling in the peripheral eye of his genius friend._

_Hands rose up against Zero's chest and pushed._

_Zero had not been stanced to expect it, so it sent him tripping backwards a step in order to recover. He blinked in confusion at Ambrose, the advisor's hands still outstretched in front of him, a physical shield to prevent the Longcoat from coming too close. Ambrose's lips were red from their kiss, his features flushed with heat and unavoidable lust, but those dark eyes were hard with anger._

_"No."_

_"What?"_

_Ambrose shook his head, repeating himself with more certainty. "No, Zero. I won't. I can't. My 'little world' as you put it has expanded to this entire kingdom. It needs me -- the Queen needs me. And you decided to choose against our friendship. You chose to become the enemy. So play your part a little better, traitor, as I will play mine."_

_The words had the desired effect this time, as Zero's face went taut with anger. Ambrose supposed that it could probably come to blows this time, though there came the sounds of booted feet coming up the corridor behind Zero._

_Zero turned, expecting Longcoats, prepared to order them to take hold of Ambrose. But his turning face came on the receiving end of a broom instead, the bristles scratching his skin as the Longcoat fell clumsily aside. He crashed into one of the tables nearby, sending the metal devices upon it clattering loudly down over the top of him. Ambrose gaped at Zero's fate, before looking back to his rescuer._

_The scrawny little boy still held the broom up in both hands, green eyes angry towards where Zero was dazedly shaking his head from the blow. Ambrose recognized him as the one who he'd hired to tidy up the laboratory; a clever little waif from the meadows of the old country. "Thank you.."_

_"No time, Sir!" The youth barked sharply, not taking his eyes off of Zero. "The other Longcoats are starting to fill this place. You'd best be making a run for it if you mean to escape. They got lots of people rounded up already in the square. Off with you."_

_Ambrose hesitated, feeling a little awkward with being bossed around by a child, let alone rescued by one. He unfurled a finger, mouth opening, but the boy shouted over the top of whatever he might have said. "Now!"_

_"I'm going. I'm going!" Fanning his hands out in front of him in a signal of surrender, the advisor's eyes took one last glance towards Zero, seeing the Longcoat climbing up to his feet again, before following the kid's orders by running out the door._

* * *

Zero was woken up by an explosion of pain in his ribs. He curled over with it, hands clutching at the sore spot before his eyes had even opened. When they did, he saw a foot drawing back from the folds of his bedroll, and Zero's gaze followed that shoe all the way up to Ambrose's face where the other man loomed over him. "Gods, Ambrose! What in nine hells was that all about?!"

The fires in the village of the Viewers had burned low through the night. Dawn had not yet come, so the moons offered the only spills of light through the branches of the trees overhead. No one else seemed to be awake, considering the time. Just Zero now, thanks to Ambrose, and the advisor who looked as if he had been awake for hours. Ambrose snapped. "What happened to him?"

"Who?" Zero slurred, voice still thick with sleep. He continued to rub at his ribs, sitting gingerly up in his bedroll to squint at the other man. "It's the middle of the night, man. What are you babbling to me about at this hour?"

"The boy, Zero. The boy from the tower. He hit you with a broom so that I could escape."

"Boy..?" Trying to figure out exactly what Ambrose was talking about took some time. Zero's mind wondered why the advisor would bring something like that up now. "Oh, that kid? That was annuals ago, Ambrose. How do you expect me to remember something that far in the past?"

The response he got was another swift kick to his ribs, Zero grunting in pain, angry now. "Damnit!"

"Trust me, they could hurt worse, if I wasn't holding back my strength." Ambrose promised him darkly, hands fixing to his hips as he glared down at Zero. "Maybe if I kick you as hard as I'd like to, then your memory would be jogged. I discovered that pain was a quite effective tool for remembering things; I should know."

Zero growled. "Don't you dare kick me again. I'm trying to remember, okay? A lot of things have happened between then and now. Unlike you, I don't have the luxury of having a gap where fifteen annuals of memory should be."

Ambrose's foot cocked back again, the Longcoat speaking hurriedly. "I took him captive. Gave him over to some of the other Longcoats. They probably took him with the other prisoners. Maybe they killed him. Or maybe they let him go once they realized that he wasn't important. I didn't bother trying to find out, Ambrose -- he was just some dumb kid."

That foot lowered itself back down to the ground, his words apparently satisfying the advisor. Zero winced when Ambrose shifted, expecting another attack, but to his relief the other man was simply sinking down into a crouch there beside him. Still, Zero kept an eye fixed on Ambrose just in case. The man's dark eyes were thoughtful, pointed to the ground, as he murmured out. "I was afraid that you might have killed him. You didn't, though. You could have, but you gave him over to the others instead."

"Yeah. I was busy. We were taking over the City." Zero muttered, still confused, not yet having figured out what all this was about. "I had other priorities instead of some anonymous brat."

Ambrose smiled faintly. "That makes me very happy to hear. But it also doesn't answer the question that's bothering me."

"Why in nine hells does that make you happy?" Was this bizarre behavior part of what 'Glitch' had been like? Zero had a newfound respect for anyone that could follow this script for more than five minutes without tearing their hair out.

"You could have killed him, but you didn't." Brown eyes rose up to his face, that smile still lingering. "You could have murdered that boy who had hurt you, who had helped me escape from you, but you let him go. No one would have stopped you from doing it. Whether out of anger, revenge or heartlessness, you could have slain him right there in my laboratory."

"I guess.. What's your point, Ambrose?"

"I've been trying to figure out at what point you became such a bad guy." The advisor shrugged lightly. "What was the moment that became the final turning point for you? I saw what you did at Cain's house. Did you decide to do that all by yourself, or were you acting on someone else's orders?"

Zero's eyes twisted away, glaring off into the forest beyond them. He refused to answer. To hell with Ambrose if it got him another one of those attacks. Fingers touched against the edge of his chin, Zero looking hurriedly back towards the advisor at the contact. Ambrose was examining him, taking whatever information he needed, compiling it in his mind. He whispered. "I doubt that you made a habit of walking around with an iron suit in your pocket, Zero. That would have made going anywhere rather difficult. So who gave it to you to use on Cain? Why didn't you just go there and kill him when you found out he was part of the Resistance?"

"Cain wasn't all that important." Zero murmured. "Just some tin man that decided to annoy the wrong people. But he never did anything big enough to get him noticed at the higher levels. He was just another of the flies buzzing in the background. Nothing to get murdered over. Cain got put into the suit to teach him what it meant to resist. What it cost. The suit and the time loop generator were standard tools for punishment by the Sorceress' order at the time."

"Why'd you leave him in there for so long, then?"

"Didn't I just say that he wasn't important?" Zero smirked faintly, quirking an eyebrow at Ambrose. "I had other things occupying my time. Some little tin man at a backwoods cabin in the country didn't cross my mind. In fact, I had even forgotten all about him until I stumbled across his wife and kid years down the road."

Ambrose's eyebrows rose. "You mean to tell me that you simply _forgot_ that you had him locked in an iron suit somewhere?" His eyes rose to the sky, letting out a low whistle of breath. "I don't know what would tick Cain off more -- to think that you left him in there deliberately, or to know that he stayed stuck in there because you'd forgotten about it."

"In the big picture of the world, Wyatt Cain was a speck."

"And you became one of the sole people gravitating in his universe." Ambrose murmured. "His wife gone, his son gone, and only the thought of making you suffer for it to occupy his time with. He was obsessed with the idea of killing you the moment he fell out of that suit. I think his mind was on you more than it was on his family, sometimes. Before he knew that they were alive and all."

"Should I be flattered?"

"Not unless you want a bullet hole between your eyes. Or a broken arm, at the very least." The advisor warned him with a shake of his head. Ambrose had brought his hands to rest on the tops of his thighs, fingertips touching together. "So, you didn't kill that boy, the torture that you put Cain through was from acting under orders and then forgetting about his punishment.. You did kill Adora Cain. You probably killed a lot of people that I don't know about."

"I killed some people, yeah." Zero nodded, eyeing Ambrose strangely. "What are you trying to get at, Ambrose? I'm too tired to follow your logic."

The other man sighed, his voice somber. "I was trying to decide whether I was doing the right thing or not. With bringing you along with us. In the practical sense, it's no question that you will be a useful resource while we deal with Bodwingale. You were a help with the soldiers. From a tactitian's standpoint, you could be a key piece."

"But...?"

Ambrose smirked at the prompt. "But.. I didn't decide to rescue you and bring you along just based on how useful I thought you might be. There was the sentimental part as well. I've been remembering.. things. The past. It's coming back as it likes, chaotic and horribly out of sequence for the most part, but the important thing is that it is _back_. I remembered that we were friends once."

"More than friends once." Zero pointed out, half-sneering at the blush his words brought out of Ambrose.

The advisor coughed delicately, ignoring the words. "And I remembered that you hadn't been such a bad person in the beginning. You had been important to me at one time."

"So you decided that you would see if I could redeem myself?" Zero's sneer became complete now, darkly amused.

"Yes." Ambrose nodded, bluntly honest. "I guess that was my intent. My memories of the past, the feelings brought on by those memories.. I had to let myself try to give you an opportunity to prove us all wrong. That's something DG taught me, on our journey. That everyone is looking for a second chance at redemption in their hearts. So, Zero, old friend, which is it?" His dark eyes searched deeply into Zero's, not letting the other man avoid them. "Do you think DG was right? Do you think everyone is looking for redemption? Or should I let you walk away now, before I embarass myself by letting this charade carry on any further?"

Zero stared silently back. Ambrose's gaze was merciless, unwavering in its scrutiny of him. He knew that there might have been an explosion there in the camp, yet he would have still had the man's full attention. Swallowing thickly, Zero dropped his eyes away from those brown ones with a snort. "You people are doomed without my help. Especially if they're taking orders from a nutcase like you."

Slowly, Ambrose smiled. "I question their sanity myself on occasion."

"Yeah, well.. Can I get back to sleep now that you have your answers?" Zero asked, before lifting his eyes back to Ambrose's face. He smirked, leaning in towards the advisor, dropping his voice to a low drawl. "Or were you wanting to stay here and keep me warmed up...?"

Ambrose sighed in exasperation, shaking his head as he looked anywhere but at Zero now. "You really are a piece of work, Zero. I don't see why anyone would marry you, if you use lines like that to charm them."

"I have my means." Zero murmured mildly, that smirk still in place. "So are you turning down the offer, then?"

"Yes. Definitely." Ambrose's head bobbed in a nod. "First, because of the fact that you are a cheeky bastard. Second, because you are still on the path to redeeming yourself, and my standards are far too high to get comfortable with bad guys. And third.."

"..Because of Cain, right?"

Ambrose paused, blinking at him. "What? No. Not at all.." He laughed weakly, sheepishly brushing off the surface of his pants. "I was going to say, 'Third, because you are a cheeky bastard.'"

"The fact that you would like to keep Cain all warmed up having nothing to do with it at all, right?" Zero eyed the other man doubtfully.

The advisor regarded his amused expression for a few seconds, before his palm fit against Zero's forehead, shoving him backwards with a snort. "Shut up, Zero. Go back to sleep now." Ambrose stood up, adjusting the fit of his jacket, scarlet in the growing light of the sky as the moons broke through the clouds.

"Sure." Zero gathered the folds of his bedrolls up, tugging them higher on his shoulders as he settled back down on the ground. The advisor was turning to go, and Zero called up softly to him, "And Ambrose? ...Thanks."

Lingering there, Ambrose blinked down at the man as Zero tried to return to sleep. He felt warmth rushing through him, recognizing it as pride, like what he had felt when Cain had acknowledged that he'd saved the man's life. His mouth stretched out into a grin, suppressed only by his teeth when he bit down on his bottom lip. Still, even when he returned to his own bedroll to try and get some sleep of his own, it was hard to make it go away.

* * *

The next day, they were seated in a circle towards the center of the village, Raw's people carrying on with everyday life as they moved around the outsiders. The patch of soil in their center had been etched with the tip of a sharpened stick, forming a map of Bodwingale that Ambrose claimed was the most accurate that his memory could provide. Which wasn't particularly reliable, considering how many times he had erased it and started over. Only when he was finally satisfied did the advisor drop down to sit between Cain and Raw, sighing heavily.

"That's the best I can do."

Zero frowned at the sketch, pointing a finger towards a design of scrapes. "Is that supposed to represent mountains or trees?"

"It's water." Ambrose said lamely, looking around wryly at the others. "I'm out of practice."

The former Longcoat and Cain met gazes briefly, actually sharing a moment of understanding, both looking frustrated with what little information they had to go on. The tin man leaned forward with a sigh, gesturing generally at the odd little designs. "Which one of these marks represents the royal palace?"

Ambrose perked up, his finger hovering over a design. "That's the little box right here. There's a lake on one side of the castle, with some cliffs going up. The only other way up is along an upward slope of land, so it has the advantage of being easy to defend from attackers."

"So storming the castle is out of the question." Zero murmured, absorbed in the images of the map, thoughtful. "If we want to get in, then either we'll have to scale the cliffs from the lake's edge, or devise another plan on entering through the front without being detected as enemies."

"There is the option of disguising ourselves." Cain supplied, following up on the Longcoat's line of thought. "I doubt that we would be able to get ourselves up that cliff face. None of us are good enough climbers. Even if we could make it all the way up, we'd be exhausted once we reached the top."

DG laughed nervously. "I don't feel much up to scaling a cliff face, guys. The disguise idea sounds like it'll work out better. How hard would it be to blend in with the people there? They're not so different from the people back in our kingdom, are they?"

"Not too different, no." Ambrose said, resting his face down atop his fists as he listened to them tossing around ideas. He was trying to pull something out of his own brain, yet it was like pulling at taffy to try and unlodge a suggestion. "The style of dress is a bit different, considering that it is another country, but I think it wouldn't be too hard to secure some clothes to disguise ourselves in. There's a small merchant town just beyond the border where we can pick up whatever we need."

Cain nodded his agreement. "Then we get ourselves some disguises to blend in with the townspeople, sneak our way into the castle, and figure out what to do from there. Any questions?"

"Nothing comes to mind." Zero shrugged. "Except for wondering when we plan to go. Bodwingale's border is a full day's ride from there. What little army are we taking with us for this mission?"

The tin man gestured around. "It'll be you, me, Ambrose, Raw and DG. That's it."

Zero's eyebrows rose. "Five of us against a castle? You people sure do know how to live dangerously."

Cain's eyes shifted to the others, as he added. "These three will just be part of the cover to get us into the castle. The only two fighters here are you and I. They'll be waiting outside."

"What?" DG asked sharply. "You've got to be joking, Cain. No way are we going to wait outside while you and Longcoat here go storming in with guns blazing." The girl scowled over at the lawman. "We're going with you guys. You'll need us."

Snorting, Zero stood up, not bothering to look her way. "What makes you think that we'd need you, princess?"

Ambrose spoke up then, his voice laced thick with sarcasm. "Perhaps because we can't be certain that you two won't kill each other in an argument before you even get six feet inside?"

Raw nodded quickly in agreement with the advisor. "Strength in numbers. Strength in friends. Stick together, and will be okay."

Sensing that he was going to be ganged up on if he put up too much more of a fight, Cain relented with a frown. He stood slowly, murmuring to the others, "We'll be leaving once the suns set tonight, and travel under the cover of night. If we keep a steady pace then we should reach the border around this time tomorrow. That should give us enough time to get a feel for the place before we make our way to the castle."

"Which is tin man lingo for 'Get some sleep now, because you won't get it later.'" DG said with a grin. "So I guess that anyone who doesn't think they can stay up the whole night had better take a nap. If that's the case, then wake me up for dinner."

"Raw will sleep too." The creature said with a small smile, heading in the direction of his hut, DG trailing after him to escape from the sun's rays.

Cain broke away from them, heading for the nearby shade of the trees. He sat down against the base of it, leaning back against the bark. His hand pulled the brim of his hat forward over his face to shield it as the tin man got himself comfortable, taking DG's advice. A shoulder bumped up against his less than a minute later, Cain tilting the brim of his hat to the side to focus a blue eye in that direction.

He saw that it was Ambrose, the advisor apparently deciding that Cain had the right idea. The dark-eyed man flashed him a tiny smile. "You don't mind if I join you, do you? I doubt that I could get to sleep, since my head's hurting a bit, but lounging sounds like a fine idea."

"Are you sure you shouldn't be resting your head down or something?" Cain asked him, eyeing the other man.

Ambrose shrugged. "Nothing to rest it on. I tried to use my jacket last night, but it's no use."

The tin man frowned, considering the man's words. Ambrose slouched back, head shifting constantly as he tried to find a comfortable spot in the bark. It took him so long to settle that Cain finally reached over with a sigh, slipping his arm around to the advisor's opposite shoulder. He pulled the man to him, murmuring. "Just use my lap, Glitch. You being restless is just going to keep me up."

"Okay, Cain." The other nodded, not bothering to fight as he cautiously rested back, placing his cheek down on the rough texture of the tin man's slacks. His eyes blinked out towards the village ahead of them, watching the shadows of the leaves on the ground beyond the shade's reach.

Cain fit his hat back down into place, before trying to figure out where to rest his hands now that there was a body in his space. Finally, he settled for simply resting one on the ground beside him, and the other perched itself lightly on Ambrose's shoulder. "You said that your head is still hurting you?"

"Yeah.. All over." The man in his lap said wryly.

Ambrose's eyes opened further as he felt that hand shift up from his shoulder. Then, thick fingers were slipping into his hair, the tips of sturdy calloused fingers massaging absently at his temple where it faced the sky overhead. Now that was heavenly. He did not bother restraining a delighted sigh in response. "Oh. That's perfect, Cain. I take back all the bad things I said about you. Even the ones that I don't remember."

"Just try to get some sleep, Glitch." Cain told him, continuing with the massages in slow, tiny circles. "We're going to need you alert."

"All right. I'll try. Thanks, Cain." He said quietly, before letting the weight of his head grow heavy on the man's lap, eyes sliding closed.

Zero glanced over in their direction, watching the two fall to sleep in that manner. The former Longcoat shook his head with a smirk, before stretching himself out in the shadow of a nearby hut, taking advantage of the remainder of daylight.

* * *

_Clink._

_Ambrose frowned, looking up from the opened book sitting on the table in front of him. He had just become aware of the noise, which had finally become persistent enough to drag his attention away from a fascinating passage on alloys. The teen turned his head to the window beside him, in time to see another pebble bounce off the glass._

_At this hour?_

_He pushed back his chair, moving to the window. The latch didn't turn for him at first, but with a little struggle and some leverage, Ambrose managed to wrench it open. As he pushed the window open, cool night air came pouring in on a mild breeze. The twin moons were high in the sky, stars sparkling against the black velvet spread, no clouds to obscure it. Ambrose looked down from the moons to peer down below._

_Zero waved up to him, the teen standing down in the grass below. Despite the fact that there was no one but servants for him to disturb by shouting, he still kept his volume at a projected whisper. "Hey, Ambrose! Hey. Can I come up?"_

_"Up?" The teen echoed, before catching on. He then beckoned with his arm. "Come on. The door should be open. Just be careful to avoid the black square on the left hand side when you do."_

_"What's the square do?" Zero asked uncertainly, looking worriedly down to the door that Ambrose indicated._

_"Instant death." Ambrose answered vaguely, before shutting the window without waiting for a response._

_He waited for Zero to arrive at his room, hearing the sounds of the teen downstairs, since Zero had never learned the fine art of walking around with dignity. Ambrose flipped the cover of his book shut, able to track the progress of the other by the noises he made._

_Three, Two, One.._

_The door to his room burst open with reckless care, Zero coming inside without bothering to knock. He was smiling broadly, face flushed from running. Ambrose thought that the other teen looked pretty proud of himself. "What did you need?"_

_"I got you something." Zero announced, reaching into the pocket of his coat. "A going away present. You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"_

_"In the morning, yes." Ambrose said with a nod. He perked as he fixed his eyes on the wrapped bundle in Zero's hands, holding up both palms as that package was placed down on them. "What is it?"_

_Zero laughed. "Open it, silly. You have to open it to find out."_

_Shrugging, he decided to comply. Folding one hand over the package, his fingers plucked nimbly at the string. He could tell that Zero had wrapped it personally. The clumsy, rushed work was a perfect projection of his friend's mannerisms. Despite the messy presentation, Ambrose handled the unwrapping with painful care, while Zero hovered impatiently nearby. _

_As he pushed the paper back, Ambrose found himself looking down at a tiny navigator's tool. It was plated in silver, delicate engraving designs etched into the surface. The tiny points were bronze. Ambrose felt his jaw go slack, mouth hanging open as he stared down at his palm in disbelief. "Zero..."_

_"Do you like it? I saw it, and it immediately reminded me of you. I figured that you could use it to make maps when you go up to the north. And it's nice enough for someone living in a palace, don't you think?"_

_Zero peered down at it over the top of Ambrose's bent head, grinning as the smaller teen looked up at him with that amazed expression. It made him giddy to think that he might have actually taken Ambrose completely by surprise for once. Ambrose's voice was hoarse as he breathed out, "This must have cost a fortune, Zero. How did you get something like this?"_

_"My uncle makes stuff like this." Zero explained. "I saw it the other day when I was in his shop in the City, and he let me have it when I mentioned that I wanted to give it to you. Do you like it?"_

_"It's perfect." Ambrose dropped the wrapping to the ground, the paper and twine already dismissed from his attention as he tested the restraint of the compass, swinging its delicate arm back and forth. The shine of it was bright where it caught the light of the lamps. His dark eyes had rounded into perfect circles when he looked up at Zero. "I don't know what to say, Zero.."_

_Zero blushed, hands sliding into his pockets, not having anticipated such a heartfelt expression of gratitude about the present, trying to shrug it off. "It's just something for you to remember me by."_

_Ambrose abruptly frowned, looking hurriedly around them. "I don't.. I didn't get anything for you, and now I feel utterly horrendous. Why didn't you tell me that there was going to be an exchange of gifts?" The boy went over to his desk, placing the tool down as he looked over the items, trying to find something that he could perhaps give over to the other._

_As Ambrose wandered away, it left Zero to look around the room. Boxes were stacked up high along the walls, only the furniture and the desk that Ambrose was searching still giving indication that there was anyone living in the home. The rooms that he had passed on his way up the stairs had been barren, furniture hidden under large cloths which would be left behind the next day. It made it sink in, even more, that Ambrose was leaving._

_Zero took in a deep breath, gathering some courage, before forcing himself to walk forward._

_Ambrose was speaking to him blindly over his shoulder. "Wait, I'm sure there's something here. You're not into books, right? I think I might have some--"_

_He was interrupted as his shoulder was taken hold of, Ambrose blinking as he found himself being swiveled around by that grip. Zero was bending forward, the taller teen's head lowering close to his, and Ambrose's heart nearly collapsed in his chest when he found his mouth being covered by another._

_His automatic response was to ask what Zero was doing, the noise coming out as muffled nonsense. But Zero's hands rose up to take hold of his face, muffling the sound even further as he fit their mouths together better, until Ambrose went quiet._

_It was an altogether surreal experience. Though he knew that Zero had some experience in these fields already -- or at least that's what he implicated in his stories about some of the girls in their town -- Ambrose was far out of his element. Zero apparently thought that this was a good idea, so his absent-minded friend went along with it, figuring that it was perfectly safe for now. His fingers brushed up against Zero's elbows, gripping hold in his jacket._

_Actually, Zero had not thought that this was going to work. His intention had been to kiss Ambrose, keep it short, then laugh it off if he needed to. The fact that Ambrose was allowing it -- nay, even_ responding_ to it -- sent his head spinning. Since there was no protest, Zero pushed the boundries further._

_He slid forward, pressing Ambrose back against the desk, while his mouth nudged the other's open to taste the inside of it. When a sample was not enough to satisfy his curiosity, Zero's tongue danced forward, probed the softness of Ambrose's lower lip, before sinking inside to chase the mysteries within. It caused the smaller teen to exhale a sigh through his nostrils, the sound as much encouragement as Zero needed. _

_Ambrose was trying to register the sensations of the moment, to try and get some grasp of the situation. He felt deliciously warm from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and Zero's body pushed against him was simultaneously strange yet wonderful. The tongue in his mouth tickled, but Ambrose knew better than to giggle in response, not thinking it would be appropriate for the moment. It was fortunate that he had the desk to keep him up, since his knees had become inexplicably unsteady._

_Finally, Zero drew back from the kiss, eyes at half-mast, as he looked down into the face of the smaller teen. Ambrose's face was radiant with color, the lids of his eyes heavy, giving him the effect of looking sleepy. Then Ambrose raggedly drew in a breath, having forgotten to do that in the meantime, his head dizzy from a lack of oxygen. Zero was laughing softly, the sound intimate. "You're still supposed to breath, Ambrose. Trust me, it helps."_

_"Sorry." Ambrose swallowed, trying to speak again, since his voice had been nearly inaudible the first time. "Sorry. I haven't done that before. Is that what you wanted for a gift?"_

_"Actually.." Zero's mouth curved up in the corners. "I had an idea for something else, if you're willing. It could be your gift to me. What do you say, Ambrose?"_

_Ambrose blinked up at him languidly, face carefully going blank. He studied Zero's face, the time stretching out, before he nodded faintly, as if accepting something as casual as an invitation into town. "...Okay."_

* * *

Ambrose shot upright abruptly, feeling heat spreading from his face down into the collar of his jacket as he gasped. "Sweet apple tart a la mode!"

He found Cain looking at him in confusion, the tin man's eyebrows quirked. "...Something wrong, Glitch?"

The advisor's head turned back and forth, searching around them, seeing who might have noticed his sudden awakening. While there were people milling around, Viewers going about their daily lives, none of them seemed to have paid him the slightest mind. Ambrose's eyes located Zero in the shade of a hut, the man fast asleep.

_Good Gods..._

"Ah. No. N-nothing. Just was dreaming, is all." He explained quickly, taking special care not to let the tin man see the status of his flushed features. Instead, he rolled over onto his side with his back to the tree, cheek finding its station on the man's leg once more. "Didn't mean to disturb you, Cain." Ambrose paused for all of five seconds, before adding, "And I don't recall telling you to stop the massage. Get back to it, tin man. Protect and _serve_, right?"

"Sure." Cain's chuckle vibrated through his chest, Ambrose able to feel it. The fingers resumed their tender care against his scalp. It was enough to lull the man back to sleep, which he hoped this time was not full of such scandalous dream/memories.


	7. Chapter 7

Cain roused them all shortly before sunset, in time for them to eat some supper before they were on their way. Raw's people had made a considerable effort to give them a sendoff, their group amazed at the spread which was placed before them in the viewer's hut. It was enough that Raw eventually looked embarassed. "They are happy that Raw's friends have met them. Hopeful for us. Want to wish luck on mission."

"I doubt that they want to see a war anymore than the rest of us do." DG said, as she piled some of the bizarre vegetables onto a slice of bread. If the others were eating them, she guessed that they must have been safe to consume, even if she didn't know the names of the foods yet. "That much anger and pain surely must reach them even up here?"

"It does." Raw said solemnly. "Part of why Raw's people made home here. Far enough from other people. Far away from war. But Bodwingale close to here, so Viewers will feel it if there is a battle. Must not let that happen."

"We won't, Raw." DG promised.

They finished their dinner quickly, eager to get on the trail. Raw's people had given them more supplies for the journey, some foods that would keep, more bedrolls and blankets constructed out of soft furs. Cain had urged them not to take too much, since they would be traveling fast on their way to the border. This wasn't so easy to manage, considering how many of Raw's people were trying to give them handmade gifts and trinkets for luck. They were able to push most of them off, promising to return for them when they had finished their journey.

At last, the twin moons were climbing the sky, and Cain gave the order that it was time to go. They had some horses to share between them, which was going to help them cover more ground quickly. DG rode behind Cain on the tin man's horse, considering that he was the most able rider among them aside from Zero. The princess looked around at her friends, as Raw and Ambrose guided their own mounts behind them; a procession of heroes on the way to saving their kingdom again. Well, four heroes and a Longcoat.

Zero kept to the back of the group, to keep an eye out for any threats from behind them. Despite the fact that DG still couldn't figure out why Ambrose had decided to bring him along, it was reassuring to know that someone was watching their backs. She leaned towards Cain, speaking to the man over his right shoulder. "Do you think our chances are good that we'll manage to prevent this war?"

"Hard to say." Cain answered quietly, eyes locked on the trail ahead of them. "I think our chances are definitely better than, say, a rag-tag band of friends trying to overthrow an evil dictator and powerful Sorceress." DG caught the corner of his smile when the man's head turned briefly back her way. "We're better prepared now than we were that time. Zero's shady, but capable. And Ambrose's brain might still be glitchy, yet it might pull off a miracle plan to save us from too much trouble."

"I noticed that." DG's voice was wry against his back. Her blue eyes spun over serruptitiously in the direction of the advisor. Ambrose was as awake and alert as the rest of them, yet there was a cloud of distraction over his features. "Is it just me, or do you get the feeling that he's not letting on as much as he should?"

That question made Cain sigh. He had not forgotten the scene at the frozen palace, when Ambrose had been victim to those frightening convulsions. While there had not yet been a relapse, the tin man was not certain that their friend was out of the woods by miles. He decided not to tell DG about those fits. "I'm not sure, kid. But Ambrose is a smart guy. I doubt he'd do anything too stupid, knowing that we're going to need him for the adventure up ahead. We'll just have to trust that he knows what he's doing."

"True." That seemed to appease the young woman, who fixed her eyes back ahead of them. "If it does seem like he's taking a turn for the worse, however, I'm going to use my magic to plant him directly back in Central City."

Chuckling, Cain murmured. "You won't hear any argument from me, DG. Consider that an approved plan."

* * *

_He had no concept of time. It felt like he had been walking forever, everything having blurred together in a pattern of dark, light, dark, light. There were white circles over his head when it was dark, which he thought were really very pretty. The bright yellow spots when it was light hurt his eyes when he looked at them for too long. Which is why he ended up walking when it was dark out, since his eyes preferred it that way._

_His body ached, mostly in the middle, something missing. He could not figure out what that was. It was only when he happened to spy a bird plucking out worms from the muddy ground of the forest that it dawned on him that he should do the same. But what to put in his mouth? It was a haphazard series of experiments._

_Leaves weren't so bad. The brown stuff under his feet was horrible. Water from the streams made his throat hurt much less. Water sometimes fell down on his head, too, when the moons were hiding. He stumbled across some red berries on a bush, popping them into his mouth. They were sweet; he decided that he liked them best. So, he took every single one of them off the bush, until the ache in his middle went away._

_Not all of the berries were good, though. He had eaten a couple that had made him feel terrible, made him get sick all over the ground. Don't eat those berries, don't eat those berries, don't eat those berries. He told himself that over and over and over again, and the next time he reached out to eat some of them, the message had sunk in, so that he did not eat them again._

_It made him feel really good that he could remember something. He wept happily as he helped himself to a bush of the good berries, finding them impossibly sweeter while knowing that he had done something correctly._

_Still, the berries did not seem to keep the ache in his middle gone for very long. He tried to figure out what that meant. Finally, after a full hour of puzzling through it, he understood what it was. Hunger. His stomach was empty. It wanted more than just berries put in it._

_The pain in his stomach wasn't so hard to ignore. It was just annoying. His head hurt worse. He wept and wept and wept when it got too bad, slapping at the top of it when it drove him into a frantic fit, then clutching it protectively whenever that urge passed. The zipper was cold and rough. He hated it. His clothes were soft to the touch. He liked those much better, touching them with his fingers all the time, smiling at the brocade, not even minding when his fingers had fussed with the lining so much that it began to fray._

_It was during one of these times, when he was smiling down at a rope of gold that had come loose from his jacket, that he found himself confronted with someone for the first time in as long as he could remember. This was not like the face in the water that sometimes waved back at him when he went to drink it. He realized that this face was attached to another person._

_"...Grandfather? Grandfather, come here, quick! You won't believe it!" The round face in front of him was much shorter than him. Everything smaller in size. He laughed, finding it the darnedest thing!_

_His laughter ceased as another person came out to join the other, and this one was just his size. He studied the lines and wrinkles of this new person, seeing that the face's hair was perfectly white! Both of them were looking at him warily, and their caution started to make him nervous, edging back to the trees that he had just walked out of._

_"He looks scared, Grandfather.."_

_"That he does, Yinn, that he does. Judging by how he looks, I can't say that I blame him."_

_"We should help him." The small person approached him, taking cautious steps, hands spread out to show that he didn't have anything in his hands to hurt the scared man with. "Sir? Do you need help?"_

_He blinked at the boy without comprehension, not understanding the question. Since it didn't seem like this person wanted to hurt him, he decided not to run just yet. The boy had come to stand a little ways away, studying him carefully. "We will help you. Come on.." One of the small hands rose up, palm raised, the fingers beckoning._

_Something told him that he should take hold of that hand. That it was okay. That he was safe. But that something came and went when it wanted to, so he was never sure whether he could trust it or not. Still.. He put his own larger hand into that small one, and smiled. _

* * *

"Glitch?!"

He shook himself, blinking around him in confusion. "What?"

Ambrose gathered that it was DG who had called to him, and that the girl had done so from across the little stream which separated them. The others were waiting on that side as well, having turned their horses around when they realized that the advisor had stopped before crossing. Had he blanked out completely?

With a light laugh, he guided his horse forward across the water. "Oh, sorry about that. My brain must have wandered away from me there for a second or two."

DG's blue eyes were fixed on him, intense with concern. "Glitch, you were standing over there for about three minutes without so much as blinking while we called to you."

"Was it that long?" Ambrose scowled, before shaking his head. "I didn't mean to delay us. Next time, if you keep going, I am sure that I'll catch up."

Cain glanced towards the others. "Maybe we should take a break."

Everyone else looked at him like he had just grown a second head. That was not something they had ever expected would come out of the lawman's mouth. Ambrose knew that it was meant to be for his benefit, but he already felt ashamed that he had stopped them at all. "No, Cain, it's okay. It was just a little glitch is all. I'm fine now. Let's keep going."

* * *

They let the horses free once the smoke coming from the chimneys in Wayside was visible, deciding to take the rest of the way on foot to avoid notice. A procession on horseback would have drawn far more attention. It was also decided that they would enter the city in shifts, rather than all at once, and meet at some central point of the marketplace within the hour. They divided up with Cain, DG and Zero entering first. If any trouble met them when they entered, the two men were the most capable at handling it. Then Ambrose and Raw would follow, the Viewer cloaking himself since he was so unique.

While there were soldiers posted here and there throughout the city, it seemed that there had been no alert about them. Cain supposed that, since they had dispatched the only soldiers who might have known their location, the Prince probably didn't consider putting an alert out in his own territory. That element of surprise was going to work in their favor.

Cain kept a hand poised on DG's arm, keeping the girl close to him as they progressed deeper into Wayside, in search of the marketplace. The booths began to appear around them, sporadic at first but quickly becoming more organized the further in that they walked. Zero had to shoulder his way around pushy vendors trying to peddle their wares, catching Cain's attention before jutting his chin in the direction of a large booth that had several different garments hanging from its racks. "Over there.."

DG broke away from Cain once they had reached the booth, searching over the garments. She fingered a long skirt in bright patterns of fabric. "This stuff reminds me of what gypsies wear."

"Gypsies?" Zero asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sized up a few of the men's garments.

"Um.. nomads. They were a culture from back home, that used to dress in colorful clothes and entertain people in cities. I remember seeing pictures in books of the women wearing skirts like this when they danced."

"Women who dance and entertain in the O.Z. like that generally tend to wear a lot less." The former Longcoat drawled with a smirk, amused as he got the attention of the vendor. "How much are you charging for these garments?"

"Fifty platinums each." The aged woman behind the counter said.

"Fifty--?!" Zero gaped at her, before shooting a dark look to Cain. "Something tells me that buying clothes here is going to be far more expensive than we'd anticipated."

"Undoubtedly." Cain agreed with a hard stare to the aged woman. If he still had his badge, he'd have run her in for robbery, jurisdiction or not.

Sensing that they were not going to buy, the women snorted softly and ambled back over to a customer browsing across the way. DG dropped hold of the skirt, rubbing her fingers against her jeans. "The clothes aren't that worth it."

They turned away from the booth in time to see Ambrose rushing up to them grinning from ear to ear. "Why the long faces?"

"The clothes here are going to cost a king's ransom." Cain explained, before noticing how smug the advisor looked. "What's got you so pleased? And where is Raw?"

"You won't believe what we stumbled across." Ambrose said gleefully, waving for them to follow. "I think I might have found the perfect solution to all our problems. Raw's waiting nearby."

They trailed after him, wondering what possibly might have put the advisor in such a mood. Raw turned towards them when they came up to where the cloaked Viewer was standing, the seer looking highly amused. "Unexpected face."

Cain looked past them, tilting his head as he tried to figure out what they were talking about. Then his eyes landed on the gawdy vehicle lumbering past them. It was smaller than the one that they'd borrowed on their last trip, not quite as brightly decorated as its predecessor, but there was no mistaking that bad taste. Especially not when a voice came booming out from the speakers attached overhead. "Hurry, hurry, hurry -- Demilo's back in town for his latest world tour. Hurry, hurry, hurry -- delights aplenty await!"

Reaching up, the tin man placed a hand on Ambrose's closest shoulder, a slow smile spreading its way across Cain's normally stoic face. "Glitch? You really are a genius."

"I know." The other said, gloating. "Now why don't we go over and catch up on old times with your old pal?"

* * *

"Tin men AND Longcoats? What is this world coming to?"

Demilo was trying to sound as brave as he could while shivering in his boots, eyes darting between Zero and Cain with heavy fear. The man had plastered himself against the side of his wagon, as if he could somehow melt through the exterior to the other side. He laughed weakly. "Fancy meetin' both of you here, so far from Central. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"We're hiring your services, Demilo." Zero said coolly, the man continuing to loom in front of the other with an air of promised menace.

"How much are we talking about for payment?" The swindler automatically asked.

Cain reached up then, latching hold of a gold hoop in the man's ear, tugging it. Demilo howled out as the pain started, sputtering out. "Okay, okay! So I'll help you out for free. After all, we're all friends here, right?"

"How good of terms are you on with Bodwingale castle?" DG asked him, as Demilo rubbed at his ear.

"They love me in Bodwingale, cupcake." Demilo said, chuckling. "I even have my own booth for their little joust fests that they hold there each season, treat from the royals."

The others looked around between them, before Cain nodded. "You're going to take us to Bodwingale castle, Demilo."

"Why should I do something silly like that?" The man asked with a snort.

Cain's hand moved to rise again, but this time Zero beat him to it, twisting Demilo's other ear in his fingers. The swindler howled once more, before waving them off. "Okay, all right!" He huffed out as Zero removed his hand, glaring between the law man and the Longcoat. "You guys really need to learn how to treat your friends better. Get in."

* * *

"So, Mister Demilo, what happened to the missus-es?" Ambrose asked politely, finding it awkward to ride along with the man and not make some kind of conversation. He supposed that Demilo's silence might have been mainly due to the fact that Zero was sitting up in the cab next to the entertainer, but it just didn't strike the advisor as good manners, especially for an appointed royal official.

"Eh.. There was some .. ah .. problems." Demilo said vaguely, watching the road through the windows while his mother drove them on their way towards Bodwingale Castle. "Mainly due to the fact that my past associations left us temporarily homeless and all.." He glared at Cain in the rearview mirror.

At this rate, talking was probably going to result in violence. Ambrose decided that maybe silence was good after all. He patted Demilo sympathetically on the shoulder, then scooted back to where the others were seated, forcing a smile at Cain. "Never knew that you were such a homewrecker, tin man."

"I consider it an act of good citizenship, if those women decided to part from Demilo's company because of me." Cain muttered in response.

Ambrose smirked faintly to himself as he crawled past where the law man was seated, trying not to look too ungraceful in the process, since the entire back of the wagon was covered with pillows of assorted thickness and size, which seemed to like to slip out from under his hands. He heard Cain's voice following after him. "Maybe you should try to get some more sleep, Glitch. We'll be on the road for awhile."

"Yeah." DG said in support. "We'll wake you up the next time we stop. Best to give yourself a rest."

"That does sound appealing, actually." The advisor admitted, as he found the most comfortable pile of pillows that he could. With a few squirms, he had lounged himself down into a good position, not even minding the fact that half of these pillows smelled of Demilo's cheap cologne. Ambrose took advantage of what time he had, and fell to sleep within seconds, clearly exhausted.

Waiting until it seemed that the advisor had fallen deep enough into slumber, Raw climbed his way closer by Cain and DG, casting a look in the sleeping man's direction. "Raw looked into Glitch, like DG asked."

"Good, good." DG nodded quickly, keeping her voice low. "Thank you for doing it. Cain and I are both pretty worried."

The tin man's blue eyes fixed on the seer. "What did you see, Raw? Anything?"

"Very confusing." Raw explained slowly, taking his time with the words in order to make sense. "Glitch and Ambrose; Ambrose and Glitch. Brain is divided still between two. Both remembering things of the other. Ambrose very cold heart before Glitch, only thinking. Glitch very warm heart, much feeling. Ambrose trying to adapt to all that feeling. Confused by feelings.

DG nodded slowly. "Ambrose didn't like people. He told me that much before I left. So now he is trying to deal with the fact that he is suddenly a social guy thanks to Glitch?"

"Yes. And other feelings. Glitch feelings, that conflict with Ambrose."

"Which feelings?" The girl asked curiously.

Raw hesitated, eyes shifting in Cain's direction. He looked quickly away. "Glitch only know how to love or how to hate. Ambrose does not know how to do either. So Ambrose left with love or hate, and not know what to do about it. Trying to find compromise."

DG glanced towards the front of the wagon. "Like with Zero?"

"Perhaps." The seer turned his head in Zero's direction, frowning. "But Raw not think it simple as that. Ambrose feel ... complicated, with him. Feel same way with Cain, too."

Cain blinked at that. "What do you mean? Glitch and I weren't enemies. Sure, I might have been a little short with him at times, but I never deliberately hurt him or anything."

Raw was shaking his head, mouth shaping the trace of a smile. "Not bad feelings. Good feelings. Warm feelings. Ambrose feel bad feelings with Zero, feel good feelings with Cain, but both of them he does not understand."

Looking away from Raw, DG's blue eyes landed on Cain. Then she looked back to the seer, an eyebrow slowly lifting. "So.. you're saying that Ambrose has 'warm feelings' for Cain?"

Cain deliberately focused towards the window then, shifting his hat on his head. DG was grinning strangely. He decided that it was time to shift topics. "What about his fits and such? Did you find out what's causing him to.. glitch?"

"Raw could not tell." The viewer said apologetically, shaking his head. "Ambrose feel pain in his head. Confused at times." His eyes kept their focus on Cain's face until the tin man finally looked back towards him, before Raw added gently, "Glitch still fragile. In heart and now in mind. Must keep watchful eye on him until it is safe."

"We'll watch him." DG nodded, before the princess stretched herself over, brushing a stray brown curl out of the face of their slumbering friend, the action causing Ambrose to smile in his sleep. "We came this far together, and he's done so much for us. No way would we let him down now."

* * *

_"Here, have some of this."_

_Yinn put the plate down on the table in front of the man with the zipper on his head, both he and his grandfather watching him carefully. They could not be sure yet what might alarm him or not, since everything so far had seemed to take the man by surprise. Yinn sat down at the table across from him, placing down his own plate in his spot. The man's dark eyes watched him curiously._

_Trying to make the man understand, Yinn picked up his sandwich in both hands, taking a large bite out it. He nodded as he chewed, smiling around the mouthful. "Mm."_

_With a series of blinks, the man peered down at the sandwich on his own plate. He mimicked Yinn perfectly, pulling the sandwich up and taking a bite out of it. Yinn swallowed, grinning as he found his attempt to be successful. "There you go! You've got it. Good, huh?"_

_He watched as the stranger began to devour that sandwich with more enthusiasm, as hungry as his grandfather had guessed him to be. Yinn's eyes rose up to the silver zipper when the motions of the man's head made it glint, propping his head down in a fist. He forgot about eating his own sandwich for the time being, far too curious about the stranger. "So, what's your name? I'm Yinn. I live here with my grandfather."_

_The man chewed in silence, staring at him as he spoke. Yinn frowned lightly, then shifted tactics. "Can you talk?" Seeing that this did not seem to transmit, he gestured to his mouth as he repeated himself. "Taaaalk. Talk? Can you?"_

_Dark eyes searched around, lips twisting as the man struggled to grasp hold of the situation. Then, they parted, as he echoed softly, "Talk?"_

_"Yeah!" Yinn grinned broadly. "See, that wasn't so hard."_

_"No.." The man said, smiling back. "I guess it hadn't occured to me that I should try. That's much better than being quiet."_

_"You can talk pretty well." Yinn pointed out, before sliding his plate over across the table. He noticed that the man was already done with that other sandwich, so he volunteered his own. The man didn't seem to mind the bite marks, eating it quickly. "My name is Yinn, like I said before. What's yours?"_

_The question made the other man stop before taking another bite, frowning against the sandwich. His eyebrows drew together in concentration. "I... I don't know. I can't remember."_

_"Your brain's gone. It's no wonder you can't remember." Grandfather shuffled into the room at that point, making his way to the table. He eyed the stranger sidelong. "You don't look like a criminal. Too innocent a face. Even without their brains, you can still look a bad one in the eye and know that they are bad. Here, I made a pie out of some of the lemons out back."_

_Easing down gingerly into a chair between the two of them, the old man sighed. "Might not be warmed all the way through. The stove has been giving me problems since the last rainfall, when the roof leaked water down into the burners. Silly things have had a glitch ever since. Half the time, they don't even fire right."_

_Yinn took up the silverware sitting on the table, dishing out a third of it for each of them. He gave the stranger a little bit more than himself, since Yinn could tell how desperate the other was for food. His grandfather was still watching the stranger. "So now you're talking. That's good. Sometimes, they don't even remember how. Locked completely in their own heads, those ones. You seem to be coming around all right, though."_

_"Might be.." He said with a nod, using the fork beside his right hand to prod at the slice of pie on the plate in front of him._

_"You remember how to use silverware, too." Yinn said, nodding towards the utensil._

_"I do?" Brown eyes studied the fork thoughtfully. "...I just picked it up. I didn't really know what it was for. My hand just knew what to do with it."_

_"The body remembers what the mind does not." Grandfather said sagely, before chuckling. "I have this terrible pain in my hip, comes back every time there's going to be a downpour. But I can't for the life of me remember how I hurt it. Guess you'd better just listen to what your body tells you. It'll remember for you."_

_"Yes.. This is fruit, isn't it?" Stabbing a piece of the lemon pie with his fork, he put it into his mouth, nearly jabbing himself with the tongs. The coordination was going to take some work, even if the motions were familiar. He lowered the fork back down, then laughed softly. "Apples may become ripe or spoil eventually."_

_Yinn cocked his head to the side. "What does that mean?"_

_"I don't know." He answered with a shrug. Resuming his eating, he took some more bites of the pie on his plate, though not as quickly as he had eaten the sandwich. His body did not want to eat it as fast. He could not understand why it had wanted to eat one thing, but not the other._

_"Hey, are you all right?" Grandfather asked, drawing his attention up from his plate._

_"I'm all right. Why?"_

_"Well... you're crying." The old man gestured towards his face._

_"Crying?" Reaching up, he touched at his face. The tips of his fingers came across a streak of wetness. Were his eyes raining? "Oh.. I guess I am." Then, abruptly, he started to laugh. He let his head drop forward, the surface of the wood rough against his forehead as the laughter rippled out of him, joyous and carefree._

_Yinn and Grandfather looked at each other, wondering if they had housed an insane one, before the youth asked tentatively, "...What is it?"_

_He lifted his head, still laughing, and still feeling himself cry at the same time. "I just.. I just remembered! I just remembered something!"_

_Yinn smiled faintly. "What's that?"_

_The stranger stabbed his fork down into the pie. "I remember that I hate lemons."_

_"You glitch as much as my stove does." Grandfather said, shaking his head._

_"That's it!" Yinn declared suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Your brain doesn't fire right, like Grandfather's stove. You're glitched. Glitch is the perfect new name for you."_

_"Glitch?" He perked up, considering it. Well, he didn't mind being named after a reference to a faulty appliance. It was better than not having a name at all, right? "Okay. Glitch it is.."_

_

* * *

_

"You've got to be kidding me." DG said as she peered into the mirror fixed in the wagon's interior, dubiously eyeing the disguise that had been provided to her.

They had been given over theatrical costumes by Demilo, who had insisted that these were the only things that he currently owned, left over from past performances of shows. He called to her from outside the wagon. "What do you expect? All of my normal stuff was in the wagon that you lifted. Beggars can't be choosers. If you guys want to make people think that you're part of the entertainment, then you need to dress like the entertainment."

"But this is absolutely ridiculous! I look like a walking blue gumball." The only way that she could have described the outfit was a ballerina with proportion problems. Its tutu skirt wrapped around her waist stiffly, the fabric dropping down to just above her knees. The tights were a little darker, as was the top. There was some ridiculous ruffle around her neck, the feathers tickling her chin. It was all so blindingly blue. DG turned away from the mirror, stalking over to push open the back door of the wagon. "This so isn't going to happen."

Raw was unable to help his laughter, pointing at the girl while clutching at his stomach. Ambrose had fallen to the ground with his own uncontrollable cackling, and even Cain was grinning behind the fist he raised up to his mouth to cough into. "Um.. That's quite a look for you, DG."

"Shut up." The princess snapped, nostrils flaring in anger. Her eyes burned daggers down to Demilo, as she growled. "You had better search again and see if there isn't something else for me to wear."

Raising his hands to ward off her anger, Demilo pulled himself up into the wagon beside her. "Fine. I'll look, okay? Maybe I might be able to find something a little less ... blue. But it does look so nice with those pretty eyes of yours."

The girl frowned at Demilo, then asked Cain lightly, "Can I turn him into a frog or something?"

"Not yet." The tin man said with a chuckle, waving her back inside the wagon. "Help him look. It'll go much faster that way."

* * *

An hour later, Demilo's wagon unleashed quite the parade of characters once it had parked in the square of Bodwingale Castle. A few of the citizens outside had gathered around the lavish wagon when it had pulled up into sight, recognizing the infamous entertainer. They could only stare in wonder as the back door of the wagon opened up.

Out popped a pretty serving maid, a gladiator, two monks and a naval admiral. The admiral, actually, seemed to be heavy with drink, or so they assumed, considering how easily he tripped out of the wagon. If not for one of the monks steadying him, the man might have fallen to the ground. The serving girl paused in the act of smoothing down the black apron around her waist, seeming to finally notice that they had an audience. Her blue eyes grew wide towards the crowd. "Umm.."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Bodwingale! You have the esteemed privilege of being the first known kingdom in the realm that will get to witness the all new, all exciting, all talented Demilo performance troupe in action!" Demilo's voice boomed through the speakers, as cheesy organ music began to crank.

DG looked at the others to see if they had any ideas, before Ambrose took a step ahead of them all. He plucked the broad black hat off his head, then bent forward in a flourishing bow towards the crowd. "Greetings to you all, benevolent citizens of fair Bodwingale."

"Would one of you get him over here?" Cain asked darkly, the tin man and Zero already having gone to the other side of the wagon opposite of the crowd. Hearing him, DG took a step forward next to Ambrose's bowing figure, hastily curtseying to the masses. She then snatched hold of the advisor's arm, dragging him over to where the others had retreated.

Ambrose gave her a hurt look, replacing the hat back on his head. "I was just playing my part of a charming practitioner of the theatrical arts."

"We're not here to perform, we're here to infiltrate." Cain told him, as he reached over to snatch that ridiculous hat off of the man's head. He and Raw kept the monk's robes on, considering that the fabric covered up all of Raw's features, and it was bulky enough for the tin man to keep his coat and gun on underneath. "Now we need to get inside and find our way inside the castle. If we can make our presence known once we have this place under our control, then there's no way that the prince would order the armies to attack, knowing that we have the upperhand here as well as back home."

"We should divide up." Zero suggested, taking measure of the others. "I'll take the girl and the seer. We'll start from the bottom and work our way up. You and Ambrose can sneak to the top, then work your way down. We will meet in the throne room."

"Sounds good to me." DG said with a shrug, before curling her hands into fists. "If anyone decides to try to take us on, I've got some good old magic to unleash on them." The stance did not look very intimidating, considering the puffed nature of her blouse.

"Just be careful." Cain ordered her, before pushing Ambrose lightly ahead of him. "Come on, Glitch. Time to storm the castle."

* * *

Cain discarded the robe shortly after they had gone inside, stuffing it behind a sprawling plant in the corner to hide it. He did the same with the hat which Ambrose was trying so desperately to keep, ignoring the man's hurt expression. Cain whispered. "Trust me, it looked stupid."

"Your tastes are questionable, so I will dismiss your callous remark on the grounds of fashion ignorance." The advisor hissed back at a whisper.

Cain shook his head and waved him along, the two of them making their way quietly down a corridor. The tin man wished that they'd had some indication of where in the castle that the throne room was before they'd come in, yet Ambrose swore up and down that he could not remember. Thus, the reason why they had divided up their group for the search. "It's quiet in here."

"I suppose most of Bodwingale's forces must be gathering at the border." Ambrose reasoned, trailing along behind the law man, turning in slow circles to look behind them now and then, to watch for any patrols. "No one here could possibly anticipate that we would try to surprise them with a sneak attack. The idea is absolutely nutters, which is why it's so brilliant, in my opinion."

"Lucky they don't know how crazy we are, I guess."

They found a set of stairs leading upwards, moving up them on their way to the top of the castle. Cain stayed in the lead, not wanting to have Ambrose in immediate harm's way if they ran into any hostiles. Even if it was quiet, he was not about to let his guard down. They passed a few alcoves on their way up, the shadowed archways leading to other hallways for each level. Cain slowed them down each time that they passed one, checking to see that no one was inside to spot them going past on their way up.

"This is almost too easy."

"I think there's a patrol coming up behind us." Ambrose mumbled, almost inaudible.

"What?" Cain asked, not having heard him, turning to ask.

"I said--" With an exasperated sigh, he grabbed hold of the tin man by the lapels of his jacket, thrusting him forward into one of the shadowed alcoves. Cain grunted as his back slammed into the wall, Ambrose flattening beside him.

A pair of soldiers rounded the bend of the stairs a few seconds later, marching up on their patrol. Ambrose held his breath as they reached the alcove where they were hidden, ducking his head down next to Cain's shoulder. Yet the men did not see them, continuing on their trek upwards, the metal of their armor clanking softly as they disappeared somewhere overhead. Ambrose let out his breath in a long sigh, smiling faintly over to Cain as he brushed off the tin man's jacket to smooth the wrinkles out of it. "Sorry. Figured it was faster to dive for cover than to try and explain myself a second time."

"No problem." Cain murmured, studying the other man closely. Ambrose's eyes were intent on his fingers where they continued to smooth at the tin man's coat. He spoke quietly down to the other man. "Ah.. Ambrose.."

"Yeah, Cain?" Dark eyes flew up to his face, blinking curiously as the advisor dropped his hands back to his sides.

"I think you and I might need to talk."

"Can we do it on the way up the stairs? We are kind of in the middle of something, you know." With a teasing smile, Ambrose gestured to the stairwell. "Unless you want to wait for the patrol to come back? I suppose the old trick of knocking them out and stealing their uniforms would be effective in this instance."

"I hadn't considered it, but that will probably be our best bet." Cain agreed. "We'll wait for them to pass back by here."

"Then I guess we have a little time for that talk." Ambrose shifted, leaning back against the wall beside him, arms folding across his chest. "What's on your mind, Cain?"

"Well..." The tin man struggled for words. "I was thinking about something that Raw had said. About you, and about Glitch. It got me thinking about what you had said back in the inn. Remember? When you were talking about persistence?"

"Yeah, I remember." Quirking both eyebrows, Ambrose rubbed absently as his chin, angling his eyes up towards the tin man. "What about it?"

"I think.. I think I may have figured out what you are being persistent about." Cain said softly, blue eyes dropping down to meet brown.

"You think so?" Canting his head to an angle, Ambrose studied him more candidly. "And what did you decide that it was, Cain?"

"The kiss in the warehouse with Glitch. And the... the almost kiss in the lab with you." The tin man reasoned out. "I couldn't figure out why those things happened, or almost happened, and it wasn't until Raw let the hint drop to me that I was able to put it all together." Ambrose found himself pinned by those blue eyes, as Cain concluded at a whisper, "You're in love with me, aren't you, Ambrose?"

Cain was ready for some kind of explosion from the brown-haired man. Either an outburst of indignant anger, or perhaps the sudden meltdown to sobbing, or even having Ambrose start to laugh in his face. He watched the emotions dancing across Ambrose's features, waiting for it to twist itself sharply into some identifiable expression.

Ambrose, however, simply stared up at him with those dark eyes, saying nothing.

The man looked sharply away as a rhythmic clanking started to come down the stairs, that patrol apparently returning. Cain kept his gaze fixed on Ambrose, watching as the man grew tense, muscles coiling. Then it became a blur of motion, as those soldiers came into their line of sight only to crash to the stairs under their feet, collapsing with a few swift strikes of Ambrose's hands against the back of their necks. Once they were down, he waved Cain over, whispering. "Help me get them into the alcove."

Following the instruction, the tin man stepped out, taking hold of one of the men's ankles, and dragged his limp form into the shadows of the archway. Ambrose was doing the same, though having a harder time of it than Cain, considering the size of his own burden. He knelt down immediately beside the guard, beginning to work at the leather latches which held on his armor. Cain watched him work, asking, "Aren't you going to answer my question, or are you pretending that it wasn't spoken?"

"Get dressed." Ambrose ordered him in a clipped voice, peeling off the shells of armor and the thick wool coat that the guard wore. He shrugged out of the admiral's jacket which Demilo had provided, slipping the new one on instead.

Cain found himself angry, and didn't know why. He grudgingly obeyed, stripping off the essential pieces of armor. The coat was close enough to his duster that he didn't need to ditch it, for which he was thankful. Cain worked in silence, firmly securing the armor pieces to the outside of his duster, feeling his jaw clenched tightly. At last, he straightened, looking expectantly towards Ambrose, deciding to let it go for now so that they could get on with it. "Ready?"

"Almost." The advisor answered softly, smoothing the last of the straps into place around his forearm. He stepped forward two steps, closer to Cain, and reached up to adjust the strap of the harness where the law man had bunched it up in his angry haste to place it. Ambrose fixed it for him, eyes on his work, before his fingers came to rest beside the strap against Cain's chest. He found that it was easiest to look at that strap as he said, softly, "I don't know if I know how to do it right. You were married. I'm afraid that my love couldn't live up to your expectations, in comparison with something like that. Glitch feared it too, and now we're just both afraid."

"Ambrose..." Cain whispered, hands lifting up from his sides, reaching for the smaller man.

Yet the advisor had proved too agile, as Ambrose stepped lightly out into the stairwell, leaving Cain clutching empty air. The man's voice was too light, too casual. Forcibly cheerful. "Come on, tin man. We've got a kingdom to save here, remember? Don't make me have to leave you behind." His eyes touched to Cain's, a smile flitting across his mouth, before Ambrose spun around and took off up the stairs, leaving the tin man hurrying to catch up.

* * *

"Something tells me that we're lost."

Cain's head turned slowly left to right, peering down the corridor to either side. It all looked the same. He had an uncanny feeling that they were going in circles.

"Maybe we should ask for directions?" Ambrose suggested over his shoulder, the advisor leaning forward to peek over the arm Cain held across in front of him to keep the other from getting ahead.

"Oh, sure. I can see it, now: 'Hi there, I'm one of your fellow soldiers, but I can't find my way to the throne room. Could you point me there?'" Cain glowered at the other man.

"It doesn't sound so unreasonable to me." Ambrose said indignantly, as he swatted the tin man's arm down with a frown. "We just keep making the wrong turn. It's the law of Rights."

Cain gave him a funny look. "What's the 'law of Rights'?"

"If you keep going to the right, you'll eventually end up back where you started." Ambrose explained. "Theoretically, that might also apply to lefts, but no one has ever bothered to publish that line of logic in any scientific journals. I suppose they assume that people will figure that one to be a given."

"You mean to tell me that your science nuts actually _published_ something as silly as a theory on walking around in circles?"

They had begun to move forward again, Ambrose sniffing lightly at the question. "It wasn't like it was my choice. The man was a pioneer of the field. Time had just made him grow senile, but we couldn't very well hold that against him. He was very proud of himself -- thought it was a genius discovery."

"Are all scientists completely bonkers?"

"Yes. Definitely. But I'd like to think of it as part of our charm."

"Charm, huh?" Cain knew he'd never understand people like Ambrose. Which reminded him that he'd intended to explain himself. "Hey, Ambrose? About what you said before.."

The man stopped them in their tracks, knocking the back of his hand against Cain's chest to get his attention. "Look! I think we found it."

Ambrose hurried ahead of the tin man, leaving Cain to trail after him, as they stepped through a large archway, the wooden doors standing open. The stone chamber inside was empty, two thrones sitting unoccupied across the expanse. Ambrose fixed Cain with a sly look, before darting forward. "I ALWAYS wanted to do this!"

As Cain followed along, wondering what the other man meant, he watched as Ambrose dropped himself down into the left-hand chair, where the dominant ruler of the kingdom would normally be positioned. The advisor squirmed a little, before drawing himself up in a regal pose, one delicate hand gesturing haughtily to invisible servants. "What do you think, Cain? Suits me, doesn't it?"

"Sure does." The tin man couldn't help a chuckle. "Tell me that you haven't practiced this in the Queen's chair back home."

Ambrose looked scandalized. "Never! I could never do that, sitting in the Queen's rightful chair. I have nothing but the utmost respect for her." He paused, then murmured, "But I may have practiced in the other chair a few times."

Cain smirked. "No surprise. Now, about what I was trying to say. About earlier..."

The tin man's words filtered off as the sound of marching feet came up into the throne room behind him. Ambrose had already vacated the throne, hurrying over to stand near Cain as a patrol of six soldiers came into the room. They looked surprised to find the pair in there, before the one in their lead scowled. "Hey. You two aren't part of our guard!"

Cain dropped his head forward with a sigh. This was getting ridiculous! How was he expected to sort this out with Ambrose in a timely manner with all these interruptions? His blue eyes touched to the advisor's, muttering. "This talk isn't finished yet."

Then they jumped forward to attack.

* * *

Between the two of them, they'd managed to take down the entire patrol, but not before one of the guards could ring a large bell inside the throne room, which sounded as an alarm to the other patrols in the castle. They found that group of six swelling up in numbers as more arrived to handle the attackers. Cain and Ambrose bumped backs together, fighting off the tide as soldiers filtered in through the doors in waves.

"I never claimed to have any expectations." Cain snapped shortly, before launching his fist into the face of an oncoming soldier.

Ambrose paused in the act of taking hold of a soldier's head, gaping back at the man over his shoulder, breathing out in disbelief. "Could we talk about this later, Cain?"

"No. I want to sort it out.." His words lapsed as he had to drive a knee up into another soldier's stomach, "...now, before it bothers me any further."

The guard which Ambrose held fell unconcious to the ground. "Fine, if you insist." Spinning gracefully, the advisor had already fallen into the motions of his deadly dance, Ambrose going through the steps without fail. As he kicked his foot up into one of the guard's faces, he addressed Cain in an irritated voice. "Just because you think that you don't have expectations doesn't mean that you don't have expectations."

"That's rather unfair to assume, isn't it?" Cain called back to the other, flipping a man over his arm, knocking his head on the hard stone floor beneath. "I mean, it's not as if I don't have issues with the entire subject at large. I'm awkward with that stuff now."

"Understandable." Ambrose had leapt forward, his leg kicking out in front of him, sending one soldier reeling back to knock another two down. "Considering the fact that you're a walking example of emotional issues personified, I suppose it would be nothing more than mere speculation if I were to try to determine how your feelings operated."

Cain grunted as he blocked a swinging punch with an upraised arm, returning the blow with incredible force to the guard's solar plexus. "Is that your way of saying that you're sorry for trying to psycho-analyze me?"

"Considering the sizeable amount of my own emotional, mental and psychology ailments at this current time," Ambrose pivoted in a circle, dodging a man who charged for him, using the guard's momentum to knock his head into the wall, "I am hardly fit to judge anyone else's condition."

"So do you think that you could at least give me the chance to figure it out for myself, before you make up your mind without my input that it won't work?" Cain panted out, before getting knocked backwards by a stray fist.

As he staggered back, Ambrose was moving forward, and Cain winced at the sound the nose made underneath the advisor's foot as the guard collapsed back with a spray of blood from both nostrils. "Fine, Cain."

"Fine." The tin man agreed, punching out another guard.

"Fine." Ambrose repeated with a firm nod, dispatching a man with a few precise blows to his torso.

Cain realized that there was no one else trying to attack them. His fists were still raised, searching for the next person to hit, but there were only piles of unconscious guards around them, and a sweeping first glance put the preliminary numbers close to twenty men. Ambrose was also still in his fighting stance, arms poised in the air, panting as heavily as Cain.

The law man dropped his arms to his sides, relaxing for the moment as he looked around the room, before turning towards Ambrose. He saw the advisor's limbs lowering, as he belatedly saw that they were not still under attack, the man glancing in Cain's direction once feeling the weight of the tin man's gaze. Ambrose's hair was tousled from the fight, face flushed from exertion, eyes on fire from battle and the thrill of the dance, as angry and intense as Cain himself felt.

"Oh, hell.."

Cain moved forward at the same second that Ambrose did, hands moving automatically to catch the weight of the smaller man as the advisor jumped up against his chest. He felt legs pinching against his ribs, but that was a minor distraction from the feeling of the mouth crashing against his in a kiss.

That kiss was all heat, moist and hungry, making Cain wonder if Ambrose were going to try to climb into his mouth. The advisor's arms were clumsily snaked around his neck, not at all as graceful as they'd been when dispatching enemies, Cain's hat falling unnoticed to the ground as their heads tried to fit better together, mouths searching.

Ambrose's lips were burning an imprint of their shape into his, soft little noises of want panting out of him which Cain eagerly swallowed. The tin man tried to keep them steady, not wanting to drop Ambrose or fall over, as that would risk breaking the moment -- he'd had enough interruptions for one lifetime already. It was not easy, though, considering the feel of Ambrose pressed so close, making Cain feel the racing pulse of the other through their clothes, more fuel feeding into the fire.

They came up for air, eyes closed, Ambrose's forehead tilting forward to rest against Cain's. Their breaths were slipping out in a chaotic rush, dancing as intimately as their lips had been. The tin man felt the other began to laugh, softly, disbelieving, before he opened his own eyes to find himself the sole focus of those brown ones. Cain felt those legs loosing their hold, and allowed Ambrose to slide back down onto his feet, leaning heavy there against him. "We should have had that over and done with a long time ago."

"Yeah.." Cain found that he was less articulate than usual at the moment, lips still tingling from the now absent pressure which had left them. He bent down to collect his hat, intent on replacing it on his head, but Ambrose took hold of the man's wrist on the way up.

As Cain eyed him curiously, the advisor plucked the hat out of Cain's fingers and placed it on his own head, exaggerating a wink up to the tin man. "If we're on such good terms, then I get to wear this, at least for a few minutes."

"Knock yourself out."


	8. Chapter 8

"Okay, so now we've got the throne room secured." Zero said as he looked around, their group having met up with Cain and Ambrose after searching the bottom levels. "So what's the plan now, Ambrose?"

The inventor twisted away from watching Cain and Raw barricade the doors closed with the heavy furniture that lined the walls of the throne room. He absently fingered a brown curl, blinking at Zero. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The next stage of your plan." The former Longcoat prompted him. "We've got the one way in and out of here covered. What was your plan after we got the throne room under our control?"

"Um.." Ambrose frowned, brow furrowing as he tried to remember what that was. "Well, we... we..." He looked around at the others, as they became focused entirely on the advisor. "We.. I don't know. Getting to the throne room was as far as I thought it out, apparently."

DG thumped him on the shoulder, making him wince. "You mean to tell us that you had absolutely no strategy to this whatsoever, beyond us locking ourselves in here?"

Ambrose rubbed at his shoulder, a half-whimper leaking from his throat. "We were just supposed to get in the castle. I figured the throne room would be the most defensible location in here for us to lurk in while we came up with the next stage of the plan. No one told me that I was supposed to come up with a plan past that point!"

"Don't work yourself into a panic." Cain warned the advisor, placing a hand on the man's other shoulder in an effort to calm him down.

"I'm not panicking!" Ambrose said quickly, reaching up from his shoulder to grab the front of his head, and it did indeed look like he was about to slip into a frantic state. "I don't know what's going on, it's just.." He trailed off, staring ahead of him with a bland look.

"Just..?" DG asked, trying to prompt him to finish. The girl's eyes dropped about an inch, before widening. "Glitch, you're bleeding!"

Sure enough, there was a slim tendril of blood which had crept down from the base of Ambrose's nose. He turned glassy eyes questioningly to the girl, before touching tentatively at that crimson trail. Pulling his hand back to look at the evidence, Ambrose whispered, "I don't think I'm feeling very well.."

Cain caught hold of the man as he began to fall, Ambrose's knees folding up underneath him an instant later, that bloodied hand swinging limply down at his side. "Ambrose!"

* * *

_Command Prompt: Enter Password_

_Acknowledged._

_Request?_

_Acknowledged. Beginning Activation Sequence..._

_. . . . . . . ._

_Activation Completed. Powering Up..._

_Power At 100 Capacity. Command?_

_Activating Program: Eclipse_

_Program Online -- Beginning Phase One..._

_Phase One Complete. Beginning Phase Two..._

_Phase Two Complete. All Systems Engaged For Program: Eclipse._

_Command?_

_. . . . . . . ._

_Command?_

_". ._Glitch?"

_Error. Error. Err-_

_It was the strangest experience to blink again, for the first time in fifteen annuals._

_"My name isn't Glitch.. It's Ambrose."_

"What's happening to him?" Zero asked sharply, looking over at Raw as the viewer put both sets of fingers to the temples of the unconscious advisor, once Cain had stretched Ambrose out on the floor.

The tin man had his handkerchief clenched in a fist, using it to carefully wipe away the blood on Ambrose's face. His eyes reflected deep concern as he also looked over to Raw, watching as the man stretched his concentration inward. Raw scowled, which was never a positive sign.

"Conflict. What should have sorted out in sleep trying to sort now. Ambrose awake too early; overtaken by memories."

"So he's having these problems because of his memories coming back?" DG asked, fingers clutching at the limp hand of her friend.

"Head too full." Raw answered with a nod. "Hard enough to put it all in place. Also trying to think, plan. Stubborn Glitch and stubborn Ambrose." He opened his eyes.

"How do we wake him up?" Zero asked, before his head whipped over to the barricaded door. By the sounds of the banging outside, either the guards that Cain and Ambrose had dispatched had awoken, or else they had more patrols now trying to get in. "That'll only hold them for so long. He won't be able to help us fend them off if he's unconscious."

"Raw can do nothing." The viewer sighed. "Calling to Ambrose or Glitch, but no response. Too deep inside mind right now."

The sounds of the guards outside were getting louder. Cain could see the wood furniture starting to shudder as the efforts grew to get in. He gave the man in his arms a shake, scowling. "Ambrose? Glitch? Come on, wake up, sweetheart!"

* * *

_"Ambrose? Come here, sweetheart."_

_He smiled to himself, running happily in the direction of Mother's voice. He'd gone out that morning to play in the gardens behind their home, and had even snuck beyond the fence to where the wildflowers grew. A colorful bouquet of them was clutched in a small fist, excited as he heard her calling for him, eager to give her the present that he had collected especially for her._

_Mother's eyes were warm, the color of chocolate, as she watched him hurrying up the walk towards the door. He proudly held up the flowers. "I picked these for you, Mother."_

_"They're beautiful, Ambrose. Very beautiful!" She took them from him, hugging him tenderly to her side. "Such a thoughtful gift from such a wonderful boy."_

_He hugged Mother tightly, liking it. Mother always felt so soft, and smelled as nice as the wildflowers. She drew him back a little, hand still on his shoulder, to look down at his clothes. "But my, look at you! You've gotten your clothes all dirty. What is your father going to say?"_

_Her admonishment was teasing, without any anger. She laughed as she brushed off his jacket, knocking off bits of moss and grass. Ambrose laughed too, because when Mother laughed, he couldn't help but join in._

* * *

_Grandfather didn't give hugs. He never laughed, except when other adults were around._

_In fact, Grandfather was not like Mother had been at all. Even Father had been very kind, giving him toys to play with that he had created in his work room of Strange and Unusual Things that Ambrose was allowed to play in only when he was on his best behavior._

_Very often, Ambrose thought about Mother. Mother was dressed in her loveliest gown when he had last seen her. She had been laying peacefully asleep in the box, and even Father looked very nice where he lay in his own box next to her; everyone had remarked how beautiful Mother had been at the little party afterwards, where the adults had let Ambrose eat as many sweets and biscuits as he wanted. Ambrose had been very proud to hear it._

_He had all of his things moved into Grandfather's house shortly afterwards, not quite understanding why he could not simply stay back at home with Mother. Perhaps her and Father were very busy with Father's "experiments"?_

_Grandfather never talked to Ambrose very often. He was in his work room more often than Father had been. If Ambrose went in to ask him to play, Grandfather always sent him away to play on his own._

_Grandfather never laughed, so eventually, Ambrose didn't laugh anymore either._

_In fact, it wasn't until the day that he went into Grandfather's workspace, watching him tinker with some device, and asked the older man if he could assist him, that Grandfather even smiled._

* * *

_He woke up the second time, hearing the whistle of the wind smacking against the fabric flaps of the wagon. It scared him a little, as loud noises sometimes did when he was alert enough to notice them. He lifted his head, staring out at the fall of white that had coated the windshield while he'd been sleeping. It occurred to him that he should probably get up and go clear it away, or else it would be difficult to judge what the weather was like without him having to stick his head out into the cold again._

_His arm felt tingly. He'd slept on it wrong. Shifting it around, Glitch winced when his elbow bumped into the side of the wagon. "Ow!"_

_Then a hand flew up to his mouth, as he hushed himself, remembering that he needed to be quiet, because the person that he lay on was still asleep._

_Cain's skin was pink now when he checked on the tin man. He looked more like himself, now that his lips weren't blue like his eyes! Glitch put his ear down against the man's bare chest, listening to the timing of the heartbeat inside, until he was sure that it had a rhythm that he liked. The rhythm it had before had alarmed him, so sporadic!_

_Glitch's examination was disturbed by a wide yawn, finding himself still tired. Cain was warm now, he was softer than Glitch had expected. The large bruise on the tin man's chest was an ugly patch of color among tan skin; in all of his efforts, and even while he was sleeping, Glitch was very careful not to touch it. But the other scars, older ones, fascinated him, and he couldn't help himself from touching them, his fingers sliding idly back and forth. If Cain had been awake, he would never have done it. Cain would have murdered him!_

_It was a quiet luxury that he was going to savor while he could, Glitch smiling privately to himself. He decided against dealing with the windshield for now. Instead, he eased himself back down, stretching until his toes brushed against Cain's again, resting his head on the tin man's shoulder. Cain was very warm and soft, and for some unfathomable reason, it made Glitch extremely happy._

* * *

_The Queen stood beside him, looking out over the large marble balcony to the fields of fighting soldiers below. While the heights bothered him, she looked so forlorn standing there that he had been unable to leave her there alone. They had the enemy, quite literally, on their doorstep. Her voice was tremulous, on the verge of tears, but he knew that she would not cry. She would be strong until the end. "It's coming to an end now, isn't it?"_

_"There's still hope, Majesty." He answered softly, trying to remain optimistic._

_"The numbers of those in the court have dwindled. All the other have fled, haven't they?"_

_"I ordered them to go." It was only half a lie, since some of them HAD wanted to stay. He simply tried not to think of the ones who had abandoned their stations. "It's for the best. If the City falls, I would prefer that our people are out of harm's reach."_

_Despite everything, the Queen still smiled faintly. Her lavender eyes turned towards him, a hand stretching over to take hold of his. "Dear friend. Underneath all that detached exterior, you truly are a thoughtful, caring man."_

_He could think of nothing to say in response to that, so he chose silence. Their gazes swiveled back out to the sight of the battle. She did not release his hand. For her, Ambrose tolerated it, as he would for no other._

_When she rested her head against his shoulder, he let that happen too. After all, they were anchors for each other in this tumultuous storm. The Queen who had run out of power and the genius who had run out of plans. They would watch their kingdom fall to ruin in the same manner that they had sustained it for several years -- together._

* * *

_Yinn had swung the stick and hit him five times already. It hurt a little more each time._

_Yinn swung the stick -- he growled in annoyance, finding that this little game of theirs wasn't fun anymore._

_Yinn swung the stick -- and this time his arm snapped up to block it._

_Yinn stopped the stick and smiled. "There, now you're getting it. Once we're sure that you'll remember the motions, then we'll move on to kicking."_

_"I have a feeling that I'll like that even less." The zipperhead said dully._

_But Yinn was swinging the stick again, and his arm came up to block it without him even thinking about it. Yes, that was much better! "Don't worry, Glitch." Yinn said patiently. "Once you find your rhythm, then it'll be easy."_

* * *

_Ambrose peeked out the window of his lab, watching as the two young princesses ran back out into the gardens after they had delivered their gift to him. He shook his head, curious as to why those girls always felt it necessary to come and interrupt him whenever he was right in the middle of something highly important. Bending down, he fixed the delicate red indicators to the ends of the compass' dial, thinking that he might test it to discover where it was that those girls were running off to. That certainly would make the Queen happy, with a device like that which could track her adventurous daughters down._

_His eyes shifted away from the compass, lighting on the vase full of wild flowers which the princesses had left on his worktable. He blinked at them a few times, then snorted in amusement, before resuming his work._

* * *

_"Oh, look at the flowers!" Glitch announced loudly, before he bounced his way hurriedly off the unsteady bricks. He dropped to his knees next to a colorful cluster, eyes wide with delight._

_He heard the annoyed sound of Cain behind him, the tin man never much appreciating the delays. "Is he going to stop every time he sees a daisy? This is pretty ridiculous."_

_Glitch's fingers touched delicately at the bright blue petals of a flower. He spoke back to the tin man without taking his eyes off it. "I can hear you just fine, tin man. You don't have to talk about me as if I can't!"_

_DG -- who was Glitch's favorite friend so far, between the two of them, said defensively. "It makes him happy, Mister Cain. Glitch, why don't you take a few flowers with you for the road?"_

_That was a marvelous idea! His mouth dropped open with the thought of it. With a grin, Glitch plucked three of them; dark blue, pale blue and lavender. He didn't know why, but those colors appealed to him the most. Clutching onto his treasures, he picked himself back up off the ground, running back over to catch up with Cain and DG, since the tin man had stubbornly continued down the Old Road without him._

* * *

_Ambrose woke up crying the day he realized that his parents weren't busy -- they weren't coming back because they had died. He--_

* * *

_Glitch was frightened by the loud thunder that roared overhead. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, trying to curl up further underneath the--_

* * *

_The stench of the cell was making him sicker with each passing day, but he was too proud to complain to his captors--_

* * *

_The cell smelled really bad. He held his nose until he forgot why he was doing so, but as soon as he let go, he remembered--_

* * *

"Enough!"

Ambrose huffed out sharply, eyes glaring around him. Around him was the fortress of his consciousness, barren white walls stretching up at either side. At one time, it had been a structure of organized memories, rooms devoted to those deemed important, closets devoted to those which weren't. Admittedly, some of those smaller rooms had fallen into disrepair due to neglect.

Now, however, everything was in general disarray. And he knew exactly who was to blame.

Ambrose stamped his foot. "Come out here. We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice called tentatively back from inside one of the closets which had been rudely invaded. "You're just going to yell at me."

He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance, then held his breath. It took him a few moments to get hold of his composure, speaking through his teeth. "I won't yell at you. I promise."

A head slowly edged into sight from around the door, brown eyes blinking cautiously at him, wild twists of hair in their usual mess. "You promise?"

"I just said that I promised, didn't I?" Ambrose asked, a little sharper than he'd meant to, which sent the other scurrying back out of sight. He sighed heavily. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? Sorry. Just come out here."

He heard an affronted sniff behind the door, but his apology got the desired result. That other figure climbed to its feet and stepped out into the hallway. One hand lingered on the wood of the door, in case he decided to run back in and lock it again. The ragged tails of his jacket dragged on the white floor as he shifted in place. "I'm listening."

"We're going to need to call a truce. At least temporarily." Now that he had the other's attention, he began to pace in a tight line, back and forth. It helped him to think, and anything at this point which would help instead of hinder that process was quite welcome. "Your friends -- our friends -- are in danger. If you keep getting in the way, then they're going to end up in deeper trouble than they already are."

"My friends?" That certainly grabbed the zipperhead's attention, which was a feat. He frowned at the floor. "I don't want them to be in danger. What do I need to do?"

"Let me be in charge. Fully in charge, not this sharing bit we've been doing. I need to think, and you make that difficult to manage."

"Do you think that you'll be able to save them?"

"I can't say for sure yet, but I will do my best."

"I'm not sure.." The raggedy man stroked his chin, considering it. "You didn't do a very good job of saving everybody the first time around."

"...That was uncalled for."

"I'm sorry." The apology indeed sounded sincere. "I shouldn't have said something like that. It was mean. I'll let you take over for now, provided that you do OUR best."

"I promise that -- this time -- I will save our friends and this kingdom, no matter what the cost. Satisfied?"

Glitch grinned. "Very."

* * *

Even before he had opened his eyes, Ambrose knew that time had flown past. He knew because of the quiet of the surroundings, the lack of any other presence. He knew because he was not on the floor of a throne room -- he was laying on the softness of a bed.

Blinking awake, he focused up to the canopy overhead, identifying that he was in his own bed. Back at the palace, back at Central City. He sat up slowly, pushing back the blankets, in order to look around him.

Had that entire fiasco been imagined?

Ambrose turned slowly, straightening the fit of his black pajamas. He slid his feet into his slippers and attempted to stand, just to see how difficult it would be. Everything seemed to be in working order. The notion of taking the time to get dressed entered his thoughts, toying with the idea, yet he soon dismissed it and grabbed for his robe from its place near the bed. He walked out of his room, moving down the corridor in silence, letting his mind get a feel for the atmosphere. It drank in details, and without that distracting presence within, was able to swiftly calculate the information.

The servants were moving around without alarm or concern. In fact, they did not even acknowledge his haste. It was a relaxed mood. That put him more at ease. No clues that there was any current threat. Perhaps he had been concerned for nothing.

There was one certain way to find out. Go directly to the source.

Pushing open the double doors of the throne room, Ambrose walked inside.

Lounging carelessly upon the Queen's throne, Prince Farthinberg turned to look at him, before smirking. "Advisor Ambrose. Glad to see that you've finally come 'round. It appears that I owe you a debt of gratitude.."

* * *

The royal family, minus DG, met for a somber dinner that evening. Ambrose found that there was nothing positive for him to say, so he let them keep their silence. That, and the presence of Prince Farthinberg's soldiers posted around the room made it very hard for them to talk as openly as they would have liked.

Ahamo had not touched much of the food on his plate, choosing instead to glare at the men which loomed around them like a silent threat. The Queen seemed to have as little appetite, as she sipped at her wine, solemn.

"Where is DG?" Ambrose asked softly, looking to the other three at the table.

"Confined to her rooms." Azkadellia said, eyes fixed on her plate, as incapable of enjoying the meal as her parents. "The servants have been tending to her needs there. We have not been allowed to see her since they brought you all back here."

Ambrose nodded. He had already gathered that after his collapse, the throne room had been raided. Without him to assist his friends, the soldiers of Bodwingale castle had captured them. It was only because of Prince Farthinberg's intervention that Ambrose was not in that same mysterious place as his missing friends. He assumed that the royal was under the impression that Ambrose had actually done as he'd promised, considering this result. "And Cain?"

"Imprisoned in the western wing of the prison." Ahamo murmured. "His trial will be in two days. Prince Farthinberg has promised that he will issue a swift, merciful execution."

Ambrose's fingers twitched where he had rested them on the table. "I see."

The Queen added, softly, "Since your friend Raw was not wanted for any crimes, he was released. As was ... Zero."

"So only Cain is currently imprisoned, and DG is grounded to her room?" He might have smiled, if it were just a bit more amusing. "Raw and Zero are around the City somewhere?"

"They are currently under house arrest." Azkadellia murmured, glancing quickly to the guards. "The prince has them stationed in opposite ends of the palace; Raw to the east, Zero to the south. I think they wish to keep everyone who was involved as separated as possible."

Ambrose shrugged lightly. "A wise decision, on the part of the prince." The gears of his head were turning, as he shifted topics mid-stride, turning to Ahamo. "I am curious, Sir, about the nature of your flying vehicle. Before all of this mess, I had been striving to create my own flying machine. Now that I will have some time, it may become my next project. Why don't we put off these negative topics for the time being, and discuss lighter subjects?"

Ahamo gave him an odd look, eyebrows drawing together. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Your flying vehicle -- it's here at the palace, isn't it?" Ambrose smiled blandly once Ahamo nodded. "Good, then I should be able to examine it at my leisure."

"Ambrose?" The queen asked, her and Ahamo looking at each other questioningly. Azkadellia was watching him carefully.

"I am rather curious, though. How many people can your flying vehicle carry at once, Sir?" Ambrose asked pleasantly, hands folding together in front of him on the table.

"Up to five. After that, the weight becomes too much to get enough lift."

"That is interesting." Ambrose murmured, a plot forming. "Very interesting."

* * *

DG glared at the door when it opened, expecting to see one of Prince Farthinberg's men coming in for their routine check in. That anger shifted to confusion as she saw Ambrose stepping into the room, the man's face carefully blank. She smiled faintly, jumping off of her bed in order to hurry to him, wrapping that familiar figure up in an embrace. "Glitch, it's you! Thank God -- I've been so worried!"

Ambrose went stiff as she hugged him, feeling awkward. He settled for gingerly patting her on the back, murmuring quietly. "Princess DG. I hope that you are being treated well?"

Drawing back, DG stood at arm's length from him, frowning at his face. "..Glitch? Are you okay? You seem a bit... odd."

"It's complicated." He explained.

Studying his face closely, DG felt that she might have been facing a stranger. Those brown eyes were darker than usual, with no trace of that humored twinkle that normally warmed them. His face was like a mask, set perfectly in that blank expression. "Ambrose. What's going on?"

"I need to ask you a favor, princess." He said quietly, voice maintaining that professional tone. "It will require you to put your trust in me."

"Of course I trust you." The princess said, that frown still in place. "What did you need me to do?"

"I need you to lend me the emerald." Ambrose whispered, holding out his palm towards her.

DG studied him thoughtfully. "What do you need the emerald for?"

Ambrose's smile was faint. "A chance at redemption."


	9. Chapter 9

"Don't know what you be wanting with this scum, Sir." The guard muttered as he shuffled into sight, one of the first voices that he'd heard since they'd put him in the cell. Cain's head lifted, thumb pushing up the brim of his hat as he gave a cool glance towards the bars. "I hear that he's some kinda traitor."

"I'm sure a man of your obviously exceptional vocabulary skills would divine a most accurate judge of another's character."

Cain perked up at that voice, pushing up to his feet. He watched as Ambrose stepped into view, the man's brown eyes regarding him briefly, before the advisor gestured to the bars. "I'll need to interrogate the prisoner. Leave us for now. I will call you when I am finished getting the information that I seek."

"Yes, Sir." Bowing, the guard gave a signal to the other man at post. The bars of the cell squeaked as they opened, Ambrose ducking his head as he stepped inside. He searched around the confinement, nose wrinkling with distaste, hands folding close to his chest to avoid touching anything. The bars lowered back down behind him, shutting him in with Cain, as the guards walked away to leave the advisor to his work.

Waiting until they had gone, Cain finally whispered. "You're okay?"

"It seems so. For now. It's been problematic, but I think I have everything under control."

"Good." Cain reached up, his hand resting itself against the pale cheek of the other man.

Ambrose closed his eyes when that contact came near, half-afraid that he would flinch with it, as he did with others. He felt relieved when it felt completely natural to him, sighing faintly as he lingered in the moment, enjoying it. "I came to inform you that I have developed a plan. Unfortunately, I must ask that you try to stand this confinement a little longer, since I'm unable to free you at this time."

The tin man dropped his hand away, fixing him with the same look that DG had earlier. "Glitch?"

"I'm afraid not, Mister Cain." He answered, eyes opening to look up at the other man. "We decided that it was neccessary for me to take over for a little while, in order to succeed with our goal of saving you and the kingdom."

"'We?'" Cain echoed.

Ambrose was nodding, his thin smile lacking humor. "Glitch and myself."

"So I'm talking to Ambrose now?"

"Indeed. I would have thought the formality of my nature would have provided sufficient indication on that matter."

"Ambrose.." Cain's face clouded over, eyeing the advisor, not sure that he liked this detached version of his friend. It was Glitch's face, but lifeless. "Then.. who was it that I was talking to back in the throne room?"

"Both of us." Ambrose murmured, berating himself internally as he felt his face filling with heat. He dropped his eyes from that intent blue stare. It was hard to keep his composure with Cain looking at him like that.

The tin man shifted his stance, reaching past Ambrose to fit a palm against the wall next to the advisor's head. He watched the smaller man fidget with discomfort. "Somehow, you don't strike me as a person who would be that impassioned."

Ambrose frowned at the insinuation. He found Cain's shoes to be quite fascinating. They were much easier to look at than the tin man's face. "I.. I don't confess to having much experience when it comes to matters of the heart and body, Mister Cain." He stammered out, certain now that the blush must have spread to the tips of his ears. "It has been incredibly difficult for me, being put back into a body struggling with these feelings in regards to you."

"Struggling?" Cain quirked an eyebrow. "So you're trying to say that you don't have those feelings at all? That it's completely Glitch running that aspect of things, while you feel nothing?"

"I didn't say that." The advisor breathed out, exasperated. Cain was starting to see that formal facade fragmenting, offering a glimpse to someone who acted more like a human than a machine. "It's.. You're a very vexxing man, Mister Cain. I find it impossible to keep my composure around you for very long."

"So I get you all hot and bothered, and you don't have any idea what to do about it?" Cain asked at a drawl, that cold pit in his stomach filling with amusement as he watched the other man squirm. He placed his hand against the wall on the opposite side of Ambrose now, boxing the smaller man in. It was apparently time for him to square things away with the brain in the jar.

"That's a rather bold way of putting it, don't you think?" Ambrose whispered, finding himself slipping back against the wall, apparently having forgotten that he'd not wanted to touch it before. His eyes flickered back and forth towards Cain's arms, becoming aware of the fact that he was being caged in.

Cain leaned in, murmuring. "I get the feeling that it's true, and I'm an honest sort of guy." The tin man's head angled to the side, face lowering out of range of Ambrose's sight. He felt the brim of the hat brush against his hair, freezing him in place. Then the feeling of lips brushing against his neck over the top of his stiff collar made him gasp out.

"Cain.."

The tin man's smile went unseen. He tasted that patch of skin with his tongue, wondering why it had driven him so crazy. Ambrose's stiffness had already given way to shaking, though he still had not yielded, too proud or too unsure of himself to take any risks. Cain wondered if he could find the key to unlocking the advisor; if he could find some way to unite brain and heart into equally formidable strengths. He decided that he wanted to try, right now, before the world spiralled any further on its crazy course.

"Cain, the guards..."

"Won't be back until you call for them." He pointed out, voice husky against the advisor's throat. Taking his right hand off the wall, Cain removed his hat, tossing it towards the cot across the room without even bothering to watch where it landed. His other hand was drifting up, fingers working at the latch of that collar, mouth nuzzling just below a few curling locks. "It drove me crazy, not knowing if you were okay or not."

"I only woke up yesterday." Ambrose answered shakily, prying his hands from the wall behind him in order to clutch hold of Cain's arms. He was starting to feel terribly dizzy, so the man was going to provide him an anchor to steady himself with, considering that his spinning head was entirely Cain's fault. "I wanted to come sooner, but I have to be careful, or else they'll imprison me, too."

He fell silent then, because his grasp on words was becoming sketchy, and Ambrose was afraid that he'd end up babbling. That and, _oh Gods_, Cain's mouth was doing something ingenius there against his throat, the law man's fingers warm to the touch where they slid into his opened collar to caress that skin. Ambrose shut his eyes tightly. In fact, the only word that he was able to manage with utmost confidence was the man's name. "Cain.."

Cain felt him on the verge of breaking, while he himself was on the precipice of falling into passion, setting be damned! All of his anger, his worry and his concern was channeling now into something just as fierce, but far more pleasurable. He was hungry now to take it out on Ambrose in the best ways possible. His unoccupied hand fit against the small of the advisor's back, drawing him in by the waist while Cain himself pushed closer, and when Ambrose moaned at the feeling of their bodies colliding, Cain eagerly ate it up in his mouth to muffle the sound.

It was getting to the point where the law man was having trouble keeping his knees steady, since he'd invested all of his focus now into devouring Ambrose's mouth. He settled for leaning his weight forward, trying not to squish the smaller man with his bigger bulk, despite the fact that it was getting difficult for him to care. Cain felt a thrill of victory as he felt that slim body melting, the last edge of Ambrose's iron composure crumbling away, and Cain found his head being clung to with eager passion, the tips of the advisor's fingers pressing into his short blond hairs.

His name was a mantra, panting out of Ambrose over and over, nearly making Cain wonder if he had sent that brilliant mind into glitching. He knew that they had little time for tenderness, considering their current situation. Cain tore his mouth back, voice hoarse with lust as he hissed against the advisor's mouth, already working at his belt with a hand. "We'll do this properly the next time: right now, I have to _feel you_."

Ambrose feared that he might pass out right then. He did not fight Cain as he worked, eyes coming open at half-mast as he watched the other man work at their clothes. Cain's hands weren't steady, so it was clumsy and took too long for both their liking, yet it gave the advisor time to let his mind roll over what was happening.

Did he want to do this? Undoubtedly! And why had it made him so afraid to begin with? He knew the answer to that: control. It had been his fear that giving into the carnality of his body would make his brain, his most treasured part, become weak and out of his control. Yet he was discovering that it had quite the opposite effect; his brain was working overtime, every synapse firing with startling clarity, the circuitry of his mind having swelled up to its fullest capacity. It was a heady feeling.

With a groan, his head fell back against the wall. Cain's fingers were slightly harsh in their quickness, but he didn't mind. He couldn't even rouse enough concern about the state of his appearance, which had been perfected with such care that it had taken him over an hour to dress. That stiff jacket was in disarray now, most certainly, and Ambrose knew that his hair would not look much better. Ambrose certainly didn't care that he was getting sweaty, or that the wall was filthy behind him, or that Cain smelled like someone who had not showered in days. That scent was powerful; steel and leather, sweat and desire. Cain pulled off dirty better than anyone he knew.

Part of his rational mind understood precisely what Cain was doing. The law man was deliberately making him a visual mess of unsettled clothes and careless hair. On some level, Ambrose knew that Cain was trying to draw that other self from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere separate from the brain. Cain was reaching for that little secret place, that little treasure which a brainless Glitch had helped to preserve for fifteen annuals, that place where rhythm came from where even Ambrose had no domain. The tin man was invading it, coaxing it out, and Ambrose was letting him.

Cain's hand moved between them, making Ambrose silently thank whatever deity had blessed the man with such a wonderful skill. All that he could think, in those blurry moments, was that Cain was thick and hot and soft and Ambrose's senses tingled with the knowledge that he could feel their heartbeats racing in time together, perfectly attuned. Cain was leading him, he followed along, and all too soon did his mind stop thinking at all. His brain must have exploded in his head. Or he had just suffered a stroke. He clawed at Cain's shoulders to keep some grip on something real.

Then Cain was groaning against his neck, which made Ambrose give up on trying to remain afloat.

* * *

Afterward, Ambrose kept his head rested against Cain's shoulder, feeling his body coming down from that rush. Cain was cleaning them both off with the blanket from his cot, helping to get Ambrose's clothes sorted back out since the advisor seemed incapable of managing it himself. They broke apart reluctantly, the chill of the cell which blew between them with the loss of contact making that loss of warmth all the more sharper. Once they had gotten themselves back under control, Cain stepped over to retrieve his hat from where it had landed on the floor.

His blue eyes were bright in the dim, looking back to Ambrose as he placed his hat back in its usual station atop his head. "You okay?"

"Better than okay." Ambrose whispered, surprised at how genuine that sounded. He forced himself to move away from the wall, fingers combing through his hair, trying to put it back into a semblance of order.

Cain's eyes drifted to the top of the advisor's head, and he smirked. His fingers combed through Ambrose's hair, fixing the mess that the brown-haired man kept creating through his efforts. "It looks fine. Now, are you going to tell me about this plan of yours, or do you intend to leave me wondering?"

"I would have told you already, if not for the... distraction." Looking back towards the bars, Ambrose frowned. "But I think that little activity has stolen away the majority of my time to explain it all. You'll just have to wait now."

"Be careful." Cain said softly, Ambrose catching a glimpse of fear in those eyes which the tin man could not quite hide.

Nodding solemnly, the advisor took a step closer, arms awkward when they embraced the tin man. Ambrose's lips looked lush from their kissing, swollen and red. Cain was unable to help stealing another kiss. This time it was languid and slow, as tender as they make it, expressing what they still could not bring themselves to say.

Ambrose broke away, eyes dropping to the floor as he curled a set of fingers around the bars. Cain watched him undergo a subtle transformation, as that warmth trickled away from the man's face, leaving it carefully composed. His voice was perfectly steady as he called out, "Guard! I am finished interrogating the prisoner. Please come and let me out, before this boorish clout gets any ideas to rebel."

Feet marched over, the guard from earlier looking in at them. He sneered as he looked Cain over, murmuring. "He doesn't look too beat up." The bars of the cell swung open as the guard worked the device locking them, Ambrose stepping out quickly, as if the very thought of spending another moment in there made him disgusted. "Mind if I ask what you did to get him to talk, Sir?" The guard leered.

"Let's just say that I am very good at hitting where no one will see the bruises." Ambrose stated flatly, fixing the man with a stare that made the guard uncomfortable, wondering if that was a threat. Those dark eyes spared the guard further discomfort as they shifted back to Cain, the advisor adding smoothly, "If you get any wild ideas, then I intend to come and do it again, Mister Cain."

"I'll keep that in mind, Advisor." Cain nodded stiffly. The guard was moving off to escort Ambrose back out of the prison level. Ambrose took that moment, letting his eyes linger on Cain's, before he left Cain's line of sight, the tin man stepping up to the bars to watch that figure go.

* * *

He had been in solitary confinement since the day of the Sorceress' downfall. His captors had decided that he might have posed too great a threat if he was held in cells close to anyone else, and so he'd been dwelling in the deepest corner of the dungeons since his imprisonment began. The only people that he had any contact with were the guards who came to deliver his meals, the standard fare much improved from what the Sorceress had allowed them to serve to their own imprisoned guests. Most of the time, the guards came and delivered it while he was sleeping. It had felt like forever since he had seen anyone's face.

So when he first noticed the man standing outside of his cell, it did not seem real. It took him blinking a few times, straining his eyes in the dark, before he could even properly see the one silently watching him. "Who's there?"

The figure took a step forward, a thin stream of light striking off of brown curling hair, pale features, and dark eyes which were looking at him without pity, hatred, or any other definite emotion. His clothes were very fine, black garments lined in charcoal gray. Delicate fingers curled around the bars of his cell, as the man peered in at him through the bars. The voice was quiet, but there was something in that struck a chord of recognition. "Alchemist Raynz. It would appear that this is the day your fortunes may change. Stand up."

Raynz' features contorted with confusion, though he did as he was told. The man's hand was dropping away, a signal being made, and Raynz heard the gears of his cell begin to turn, the bars sliding up. Shuffling cautiously forward, the alchemist edged his way out of the cell, trying to determine if there was some trick to this. Now that there was more light, he blinked over at the man who had come to free him, before gasping in disbelief.

Ambrose's mouth curled faintly, the advisor nodding. "I see that you remember me. I certainly do remember you, Alchemist Raynz. Though I can't claim to be a fan of your work, I find myself in need of your services."

"What if I refuse to help you?" Raynz asked with a slow blink of his large eyes.

Another figure eased up into sight nearby him, a subtle smile on Zero's face as he lifted the shock stick into sight. Raynz' eyes widened towards it, even as Ambrose was murmuring pleasantly. "Then my associate here will grant you a taste of the encouragement that you found so useful in the past. Zero, if you would?"

"Gladly." The Longcoat said with a nod, taking hold of Raynz by the arm, dragging the alchemist along as Ambrose began to walk ahead of them. Zero asked curiously. "So, you've rescued me, freed him, and what's the next stage of your plan?"

"I gather my tools," Ambrose said vaguely, "and then we fly."

* * *

Jeb paced the barracks, restless. It took all his willpower not to stage a revolt, to free his father from prison and DG from the clutches of the prince. He knew, though, that such a move on his part would only end up adding more turmoil to the kingdom. There would need to be some other plan, aside from an open attack. All he needed to do was come up with the idea. His men, no matter what he decided, would follow him to the end.

DG had not been allowed to have any visitors since her return. It made Jeb angry, knowing that she was more or less a prisoner in her own palace. He had thrown himself into training procedures, finding his anger impotent without an outlet to set it free. Anything that he might have done could put everyone at risk if he wasn't careful.

Still, it was becoming next to impossible to stand by and do nothing.

"Message for you, Sir."

Jeb turned to the uniformed man who had entered the barracks, frowning. He took the folded paper, not even bothering to acknowledge the man's bow as the younger Cain tore open the letter, wondering who might have wanted to contact him.

His eyes scanned over the letter once, then again. Then again. Jeb's jaw went slack, before he took a quick look around the barracks. Stuffing the letter into his pocket, the young man headed out of the barracks at a run, on his way to the palace.

* * *

"I think we will host the reception in your larger ballroom in the southern wing of the palace." Prince Farthinberg said merrily, shifting upon the throne as he smiled to the scowling princess seated unwillingly in the chair beside him. DG kept her eyes fixed straight ahead of her.

The Queen stood nearby with Ahamo, fitting herself into the curve of his arm. His eyes were angry, locked on the floor. Only Azkadellia responded, her voice cool, to appease the royal invader. "That should be sufficient space, Your Highness."

"What say you, my love?" Farthinberg asked the girl beside him, mockery in his voice.

DG's right eye began to twitch. Through her teeth, she uttered. "Whatever."

"Now, my darling.. I sense that you are displeased." His face softened with false concern. "My only thought is of your happiness, Princess. Tell me what I can do to earn a smile from that lovely face."

"Pitch yourself off a high cliff?" DG suggested immediately, hopefully. Ahamo snorted quietly, barely able to restrain a laugh. The prince glared in his direction, before smiling tightly to the woman at his side.

"Unfortunately, I can't do that."

Prince Farthinberg pushed up from the throne, looking around at the members of the royal family. "You can all stand here, glowering and sullen, for as long as you like. My army is outside of this city -- you are conquered. The sooner that you accept your defeat, the sooner that your resignation will ease your suffering."

The doors of the throne room opened, a uniformed attendant clearing his throat to draw their attention. "Highnesses, there is someone who has requested an audience, stating that he has urgent news to deliver."

"Who is it?" The Queen asked, curious.

"Mister Jeb Cain, Your Majesty." The attendant responded, bowing before turning towards the door, beckoning to the one standing outside.

Jeb walked into the throne room, ignoring the presence of Farthinberg's guards around the place. His focus was entirely on the royal family, eyes lingering on DG, before fixing on the Queen. "Your Highness. I bring urgent news from Ambrose." The young man drew a paper out of his pocket, waving it in the air. "He sent me this message, asking that I deliver his words to you."

"And what words are those?" Prince Farthinberg asked darkly, eyebrows drawing together as he twisted towards a few of his men. "You three, go track down Advisor Ambrose and bring him here to me."

"That will be a bit difficult, Farthinberg.." Jeb said, unable to help a smirk.

"And why, little soldier, would that be?" The prince asked, as his eyes narrowed towards the younger Cain. "What exactly did Ambrose say?"

"Just four words." Jeb answered, before pointing their attention to the large picture window overlooking the panorama of the O.Z. "'_Look to the West_.'"

* * *

Pushing open the double doors, Ambrose felt his breath growing short in his chest as they stepped inside. His eyes shot directly for that spot on the floor, still showing the marks where the tank had once been fixed. Zero and Raynz moved in around him, the former Longcoat roughly pushing the alchemist ahead of him. "Time for you to prove your use. What do you need us to do, Ambrose? Ambrose?"

He blinked back at the other man, seeing that Ambrose was still rooted to his spot just inside the doors, eyes locked on that point on the floor. Then, his eyes tore themselves free, spinning to Zero. "What? Oh. We'll need to run a diagnostic. I'm sure that many of the generators were damaged in the explosion that resulted when the light pulsing reversal caused the machine to malfunction. We have to know what ones are still operational. Raynz?"

The alchemist was prodded forward, moving towards the dials at the back of the room. Ambrose followed along with him, to watch over the man's shoulder, checking on his work. His hands moved of their own accord, fingers dancing in the air above the controls, desiring to touch and afraid to at the same time. Raynz worked the machine with silent efficiency, a few twists starting a low hum of power from somewhere below them. The man spoke flatly. "Generators Number Three and Number Five are the only remaining units. The others are unresponsive. We will be operating considerably under power."

"That's all right." Ambrose nodded, satisfied. "I don't want to use this abomination at its full strength. Just get the systems online. Zero, stay with him, and if he so much as looks at a button in a way that disturbs you.." He trailed off, miming a gesture of poking something with a stick.

"Okay, but..." Zero watched as the advisor turned to leave, knuckles white where Ambrose gripped that case of tools, "you still haven't told me what you are doing."

Quietly, Ambrose sighed. He stopped in the doorway, half-turning back to Zero. "The first time around, I let myself be handicapped by doing the absolute right thing; whether out of pride or out of ignorance, it cost us everything. I'm not going to make that mistake this time."

Zero stared at him thoughtfully. "What are you going to do?"

"What I should have done before." Ambrose's eyes were hard, like chips of flint. "I'm going to fight dirty." Then he walked from the room, leaving both the Longcoat and the alchemist wondering what precisely that meant.

* * *

"What sort of gibberish is that?" Farthinberg looked around at the others, trying to see if the royal family had some idea of what he himself was missing.

He frowned as he saw that DG had already jumped out of her chair, both her and Azkadellia hurrying to the window. The Queen and Ahamo followed quickly after, leaving the confused prince to do nothing but follow.

Blinking outside, Farthinberg scanned the horizon to see what they were looking for, finding that there was nothing to the west for them to see, except for the skeletal finger of the abandoned Dark Tower. He was even looking past it, dismissively, until something about it snared his attention back.

"What in the name of the Gods...?"

There was a distinct green flare that surged at the crown of the tower, pulsing a few times like a trick of light. Then, abruptly, that flickering light exploded into a solid beam of green, extending up into the night sky.

* * *

Ambrose flinched against the sudden rush of power blasting up near where he worked, the green pulse of the beam momentarily blinding him. He turned his face away from it, focusing back on getting his own part of the project done.

Reflect. Redirect. It was such an elementary plan.

He kept his back turned away from the edge of the balcony, trying to ignore it. The wind and the charge of magic in the air whipped at his hair, but even that he managed to tune it out, becoming absorbed in his task. He grunted quietly when trying to adjust the reflective plates, them being a bit heavier than he had counted on. Ambrose dragged them over one at a time, placing them around where the beam shot overhead.

Zero and Raynz came up, the alchemist being made to assist him, while Zero stepped in as the muscle of their trio, wrenching the plates over when Ambrose was unable to shift them any further. He looked up to the bright green beam overhead, before laughing, shouting to Ambrose over the noise. "Do you think they've figured out what we're up to?"

Ambrose glanced over to the man, then looked over his shoulder towards the distant, glowing lights of Central City. He smiled faintly. "If they haven't yet, they will shortly. Get ready to move that upper plate at my signal. Everything else is in place. Once the beam hits that plate, it will reflect itself in the direction of Central City. More specifically... that nice open field where Bodwingale's army is currently lurking at."

"You're using this as a weapon?" Zero was surprised. "You're going to kill them all?"

"Not at all!" The advisor gasped, shocked at the very idea. "The beam isn't going to kill anyone. It will, however, cast a stun effect that is going to put their ranks out. The worst that will happen is that they are all going to wake up with terrible, terrible headaches."

"Oh. So, the beam is going to do that?"

"Once I put the focus piece into it, yes."

"Which would be what?"

Ambrose fished into a pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a jewel. He held it up for Zero to see, the Longcoat's eyebrows raising in surprise. "Is that the Emerald that I think it is?"

"The same. Now remember to move that plate when I give you the signal, Zero." Ambrose reminded him, as he clutched the emerald tightly in his fist. He blinked at that beam of light, feeling his courage start to slip for the first time. His thoughts turned to Cain, and to DG, and to the Queen. He'd come this far -- there was no faltering now.

Closing his eyes, he stepped tentatively forward, gasping at the feeling of the energies that wrapped around him, licking at his clothes and hair. Ambrose bit down on his bottom lip, steadying himself. Uncurling his fingers, he revealed the emerald to that green light. "Zero, NOW!"

The beam around him reacted to the glimmer of that emerald, Ambrose watching as it reached for contact with the jewel. Then there was an explosion of power, blinding him, and after that, he was aware of nothing.

* * *

The entirety of Bodwingale's army had taken the brunt of the giant beam of power, flattening the soldiers waiting anxiously for battle. When the chaos of it had passed, Jeb's platoons had succeeded in clearing out the hostiles positioned in the palace, taking Prince Farthinberg's grasp on power down to nothing in the matter of an hour.

In fact, the prince was surrendering shortly after that beam had hit, seeing that his army could no longer support him. Jeb was quite happy to personally toss the royal into one of the cells down below, before freeing his father. Cain's gratitude and relief was overshadowed by concern for the fate of Ambrose, whom they did not hear from. He stood on the balcony of the palace alongside his son, watching in the direction of the Dark Tower for some glimpse of that balloon which the crafty inventor had borrowed from Ahamo.

It wasn't until close to morning that Jeb roused his father where the tin man had fallen asleep there against the base of the balcony's railing, pointing the older man's attention in the direction of the Tower. "Father, look!"

Cain quickly scrambled up to his feet, eyes eagerly searching the horizon.

In the growing light of the twin suns that were soon to rise, he saw the unmistakeable image of the red balloon, drifting in their direction through the clear dawn sky.

Both he and Jeb signaled to the balloon when it came into range, able to hear the burst of power as the flame waxed and waned in its strength. It drifted to them, the roped bags being tossed down to anchor it. Both of the Cains gripped hold of a rope, winding them around the thick marble railing of the balcony, as the balloon bumped silently to a stop above them. Cain stepped out of the way as the ladder was tossed over the side of the basket, holding it steady.

The first person that he saw climbing out was the unexpected sight of the bald alchemist from the Sorceress' fortress, scaling down the ladder while his large eyes blinked around like some albino insect. He noticed Cain and Jeb standing there, smiling lightly. "One of you strapping gentlemen is probably going to have to help carry him down."

"Help...?" Jeb asked, before a whistle from the top of the basket drew his attention up.

Zero's face was tense, white as a sheet. He blinked down at Cain and Jeb, addressing the older man in an urgent voice. "Get up here and help me, Cain. I don't want to drop him."

Cain needed no more urging than that. Jeb did not think that his father could have scaled the ladder that fast at his age, but considering the dire delivery of Zero's words, Jeb figured that his father had enough motivation to pull off the impossible.

* * *

Ambrose moved forward with deliberate strides, the clinging mist of thought curling away from him in the black void of his consciousness. He came into a barren white chamber, which had no decorum, nor even any furniture, aside from those pieces in the center of the circular room. Two matching black chairs, and a chess board between, the delicate glass pieces already set for a round of play.

He brushed off his sleeves, fixing one of the cuffs as he sat himself down in front of the board. His eyes swept over it, already plotting out strategies in his mind. Still, he was impatient, and the other was making him waste precious time. Ambrose glowered around him, snapping. "Would you kindly stop hiding?"

The other chair abruptly filled, a man in raggedy attire lounging in the seat, one elbow cocked comfortably back as he tilted the chair back on two legs. Brown eyes were amused underneath that spill of wild hair, Glitch's head cocking sharply to the left as he regarded the one across the board. "You're the one who keeps insisting that I butt out of everything. I can't help it if you want to change your mind all the time."

"We need to settle this, now that everything is in order and our friends are safe." Ambrose said firmly, not wanting to let the other take control of the conversation. Otherwise, they would end up going in circles for hours. "We're both civilized creatures. I am sure that we can come to a compromise of sorts." He leaned forward and took hold of a black pawn, inching it forward on the board before his eyes fixed on those of his shadow self.

Glitch moved far more delicately, fingers splayed as he cautiously pinched a white pawn a few squares down, easing it two spaces ahead. "Deal. Compromise. Okay, start."

"I think that we should start going solely by my name." Ambrose murmured, shifting another piece. "It was the name for us before you came along, and it sounds far more dignified. So, from now on, when people address you as 'Glitch', I get to decide whether or not to respond."

"I guess." Glitch's lips twisted, face scrunching up comically in his effort to concentrate as he took his own turn. "My turn: We don't EVER do anything like that with Zero ever again. I was disturbed."

Ambrose snorted. "Trust me, that's a given. It was years ago. Mostly an experiment, anyway. I have no desire to begin any kind of intimate relations with him."

"Because I have Cain now. Well -- we have Cain now, anyway."

"Yes." Ambrose blinked over at his counterpart. "You're fortunate that I decided to go along with it. I've had a hell of a time dealing with those feelings of yours."

Glitch laughed quietly, placing one of Ambrose's pawn on the table beside the board. "He grows on you. I think it's the eyes. Or maybe the pants. But I think my favorite part is when he smiles for real. Makes my synapses fire overtime." He sighed dreamily, eyes raising to the ceiling as he savored a memory or two.

Which meant that Ambrose was sharing that memory, blushing as he conquered another of Glitch's pieces. "Stop that. Focus. We were negotiating, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Where were we?"

"We're going by my name. I will never so much as flirt with Zero. We are in firm agreement that Cain is the epitome of a handsome, attractive gentleman."

"I don't want us going back to being like you were before me." Glitch said, suddenly somber. He looked mournfully over at Ambrose. "Promise me that we won't go back to being that person. We have friends now, and Cain."

Ambrose meditated on that mournful expression, before nodding softly. "I promise. I've grown fond of the way I am now."

Glitch's mouth curved up in the corners, his face lighting up at the promise. That smile then spread to a full grin as he leaned back in his chair, dropping his hand to rest beside the board. "Hey, Ambrose?"

"Yes, Glitch?"

"You're not as much of a snob as I thought you were. Oh, and checkmate."

"Why, thank you, I--what?!" Ambrose dropped his eyes from the face of the other man, gaping at the board between them. Sure enough, he found himself with no place to move his king piece. Glitch had snuck in a victory right under his nose. "But, how...?"

With a sweet, innocent sort of smile, Glitch's hand reached over the board. He took hold of Ambrose's king piece, then beckoned for the other man to give him his hand. When Ambrose obeyed, Glitch pressed that crystal piece into his counterpart's upturned palm, saying softly. "You underestimated me. You always did."

"I suppose I did." Ambrose was blinking over at the zipperhead, eyes wide with shock. He then nodded once, slow and respectful, not taking his gaze off of Glitch. "I'm sorry."

Glitch winked, playful. His hand covered over that piece, fingers folding over that hand which matched his own, squeezing lightly. "What would you do without me, handsome?"

Ambrose felt himself choked up out of nowhere. He smiled, eyes blinking rapidly against that sudden onslaught of tears. With a sniffle, the advisor looked down to the piece in his hand, as Glitch's hand pulled back out of sight. "Not much. Float in a jar, I guess. Hey, Glitch...?" He looked up, words on his lips.

The opposite chair was empty.

Swiveling his head slowly, Ambrose searched around the room. There was no sign of Glitch anywhere. He let out a thick breath, using the back of one sleeve to wipe his eyes clear, lashes wet. Then he raised that chess piece up closer to his face, eyes squeezing shut with a whisper to the empty air. "Thank you."

* * *

"Cain, come quick! He's.. crying." DG called over to the tin man, who rushed away from the window to the bedside. Jeb shifted from his own chair, to give his father room in that space. DG stood up with him, the two of them watching with wide eyes as Cain bent over the limp figure in the bed.

Cain frowned down at the man laying there. He reached over a hand, sweeping away the tears gathered in the corners of those closed eyes, tender with his touch.

With a sharply drawn breath, those eyes snapped open.

Cain's efforts paused, looking down at them, his lips parting. "...Glitch?"

Slowly, the man on the bed shook his head. His mouth felt dry to him, the words coming rough out of his throat. "The other name, please."

"Ambrose." Easing down, Cain sat himself on the edge of the bed, studying the advisor as the man blinked around the room without comprehension. "You're in your bedroom, back in the palace. We brought you here while you were unconscious. How do you feel?"

"Good. Sad. I suppose that I gave everyone a fright, didn't I?" Ambrose felt a twinge of guilt at that, trying to push himself upright. He was grateful when Cain's hand fit against his back, helping him to sit and keep him steady.

"We were all pretty worried." DG whispered from the foot of the bed. "Raw told us that we were going to have to let you work it out, and the alchemists said that there was nothing that appeared to be wrong with you in a physical sense."

"Sorry, doll. Had some things to iron out." The advisor smiled wanly towards her, before his eyes drifted back over to the blue eyes so close to his face. Ambrose became enthralled with looking at Cain, whispering out. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"Can't be helped." Cain replied, before smiling. "After all, I worry about you most, remember?"

Ambrose grinned. He nodded silently, before calling lightly towards DG and Jeb. "Would you both mind excusing us for a few minutes? Cain here is going to help me get ready -- and then we are all going out to paint the City emerald green!"

"Sure.." DG grinned, lacing her arm with Jeb's. The younger Cain blinked at her, not fully understanding what was going on. Yet he didn't put up any protest when the princess tugged him out of the room, the door closing quietly behind them.

"Get me a glass of water, Cain, would you?" Ambrose asked politely as they left, gesturing to the pitcher just out of reach.

The tin man scoffed softly, yet did as requested. He put the glass into Ambrose's hand. "Here. And you're really in no condition to be going out into the City tonight. You've been in bed for over a week. You'll be too sluggish to go running around."

Drinking thirstily, Ambrose quickly emptied his glass. He sighed with the relief that it gave his throat, before placing it down on the table nearby. Then, the advisor had the sheer pleasure of watching the surprise chase over Cain's face when he slid his arms around the tin man's neck, expression perfectly impish as he purred quietly, "Looks like you're responsible for limbering me up before the evening gets too late, then, tin man."

Cain's surprise was short-lived. His face slowly transformed, and the effect of the sudden heat that filled those blue eyes instantly melted the one drawing him close. A hand reached up blindly, Cain sliding off his hat, tossing it to the side as he locked his eyes on Ambrose's mouth, murmuring out, "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

* * *

-FIN- Working on Continuation Fic on LJ -- Huzzah!


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